As we entered the house, I glanced at my surroundings. Absolutely nothing had changed. The same décor greeted my return. Giles, our butler, smiled, showing his pleasure.
“Welcome home, Lady Isabella,” he hailed, bowing his head. “If there is anything that you require, please let me know. We will see to it immediately.”
“Thank you, Giles.”
When I walked into the parlor, I chose a single winged chair to sit in rather than share a seat with either of my parents. My emotions for both had changed. My heart had turned stone cold toward my family.
“Tell me, Isabella,” Father started, “how is the political climate in Europe?”
“Uneasy,” I replied with one word. Not interested in giving a civil discourse, I brushed a wrinkle from my skirt in indifference. Mother handed me a cup of tea that she had poured.
“Yes, I imagine so,” he replied. “Nevertheless, the season has begun, and I’ve brought you home to pursue other endeavors.”
“Other endeavors?” I asked, raising a curious brow.
“Finding you a husband, of course,” Mother interjected.
Irritated, I inhaled a breath before speaking my mind. “I’m here but five minutes and you wish to send me off again, I see.”
“We only have your best interests at heart,” Father clarified.
“Well, you can be assured that your money was well spent upon my studies at finishing school,” I added snidely. “Hopefully, you’ll think me more of a lady rather than a trollop.”
My parents exchanged a troublesome glance between one another. The next question flew out between my lips before I could stop myself.
“Do you know how my daughter is? Do you know where she’s at and if she’s well?”
Mother set her teacup down on the saucer with a loud clink. Father, on the other hand, narrowed his eyes.
“The welfare of your child is unknown. I suggest, Isabella, that you drop the subject entirely,” Mother ordered. Her lips were pressed in a straight line, and the veins in her neck bulged with anger. Obviously, the subject was not to be spoken of in the household.
“I’ve spent time, money, and energy to keep your indiscretion quiet,” Father said. “None of the staff knows, except Hazel, who is sworn to secrecy. Now that you have returned to this household, the subject it not to be spoken of again.” He inhaled a fiery breath. “Do you understand me, young lady?”
Foolishly I thought that as grandparents they might have cared for the child I bore or at least knew of my daughter’s welfare. Apparently, my assumptions were far from accurate. Neither of them cared. My baby girl had become an object of shame, to be forgotten and pushed aside as illegitimate and unworthy of the Stuart name. Instinctively my hand came to my locket and touched it reverently. I would die before I told my parents the contents of the only part of Mary Jane that I was able to keep. Eventually I acquiesced to Father’s edict.
“Of course. Far be it from me to cause further scandal to this family.” I rose to my feet. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to return to my room and rest. The trip was tiring.”
After setting my teacup down on the side table, I respectfully nodded to them both. Frankly, I didn’t have the strength to smile at either of them. Instead, I left the parlor and slowly climbed the staircase to my room. When I opened the door, I noticed my suitcases at the foot of the bed. At first glance, nothing had changed. Oddly, though, the pink décor seemed quite childish to me now, and an overwhelming urge to redecorate the interior gave rise in my mind. Isabella Stuart had changed and matured. No longer was I the imprudent young girl who made a poor choice. No, I had grown, become a mother, and a determined young lady.
Sitting down at the edge of my bed, I pulled out the business card from my purse that Reginald had given me. For propriety’s sake, I would wait a few days before telephoning. First I needed to settle in and get used to being back home.
Chapter Ten
A Secret Rendezvous
My parents had been quite busy arranging my life upon my return home to Kentwood. A variety of social events had been lined up for the months ahead. My coming out would never happen, of course, and no presentation to court would transpire. In all honesty, it would have been a farce, but somehow invitations to affairs arrived in spite of it all.
There were dinner parties, charity, and sporting events to fill my calendar. Mother acted keen to involve me in social activities to get noticed and married off. I, on the other hand, only wanted to see Reginald. To fit the part, Father gave me a generous allowance to shop for a new wardrobe. Unbeknownst to him, it would give me an excuse to leave Kentwood.
As the days passed, I impatiently waited for a moment to use the telephone unseen and unheard. Father had left the estate on business, and Mother had retired to bed due to a headache. I slipped into my father’s study, holding the card Reginald had given me, and dialed the number. Since it had been a workweek, I phoned his office. After a few rings, someone answered the call. Instead of his voice, I heard that of a woman’s.
“Beechen, Smith, and Spencer. How may I help you?”
After not hearing Reginald answer the telephone, I became tongue-tied.
“Hello, may I help you?”
“I would like to speak to Mr. Spencer if you please,” I timidly squeaked.
“He’s in a meeting. You may leave a message with your name and number, and I will be sure he receives it.”
Afraid to do so, I stuttered my response. “N-no thank you.” In a fit of frustration, I nearly dropped the receiver onto the base. Calling him at the office would not suffice. Somehow I would have to do so quietly in the evening but had no idea how to find the privacy.
Then I thought of calling his home number. Perhaps I could leave a message there. Anxious to let him know I had at least tried, I turned the card over and dialed again. The phone rang four times, and just as I was about to hang up, a voice answered.
“Mr. Spencer’s residence.” The friendly female voice sounded more welcoming than the professional one I had recently encountered at the firm.
“Is Mr. Spencer there?” I knew he wasn’t, but I wanted to see what the woman would say.
“No, ma’am, he’s at work. Can I take a message?” she asked with a cockney accent.
“Oh, well, just tell him that Bella called. I’m an old friend of the family,” I replied.
“Do you want to leave your—?” Her words cut off when I heard a child scream in the background. “Hold on a minute.” She gasped, putting the phone receiver down on a table with a clunk. In the background, I heard her calmly say, “Now what did you get yourself into?” A few moments later, she picked up the receiver again. “Sorry, miss, the little one took a tumble,” she stated, out of breath.
“Are you the nanny?” I asked, not thinking it might be a rude and intrusive question.
“Yes, miss. Now, who did you say you were?”
“Bella,” I replied. “Just tell him Bella called.” I hesitated to say anything more except “good-bye” and hung up the telephone.
Well, that answered my question. He had a young child, but I still didn’t know the gender. I should have asked but didn’t have the sense to do so. Frustrated, I sat down in a chair across from my father’s desk, wondering how in the world I would ever be able to contact Reginald, let alone spend time with him. There had to be an answer to this conundrum, but it wouldn’t come today.
As I sat there pondering, suddenly the telephone rang, scaring the daylights out of me. After one ring, I grabbed it before the staff did.
“Hello.”
“Isabella, is that you?”
Shocked that Reginald was at the other end, I nearly choked out my answer. “Yes, yes, it’s me. I just tried to call.”
“I know. My nanny telephoned me at the office and said you’d left a message at the house.”
“I called your office too, but you were in a meeting, so I hung up.”
“Best not to call me here,” he whispered. “Oddly enough, I had a mee
ting with your father. He just left, so I knew I’d have a few minutes to catch you before he came home.”
“Oh, Reginald,” I cooed like a schoolgirl. “I miss you.”
“And I you,” he speedily replied. “You have been on my mind since I brought you home. How are things?”
“All right, I suppose. My relationship with my parents remains strained, and they have plans to push me into social circles, hoping to marry me off.”
Reginald chuckled. “I thought as much,” he replied. “So when can I see you?”
“I will be in London on Thursday, shopping. Could we meet for lunch?”
“Not near my office,” he said. “Someone might recognize us together.”
“All right. Where then?”
“There is a pub in Soho. Would that do?”
“Yes, that would do nicely. What is the address?” I grabbed a pen and notepad off my father’s desk and scribbled down the name and location. “I do so look forward to seeing you again,” I said.
“Until then, Isabella. I must go now.” He cut me off, and I heard male voices in the background.
“Good-bye,” I replied. He said nothing more and hung up the phone. Returning the notepad and pen to where I had found it on Father’s desk, I went back to my room giddy with excitement.
WHEN THURSDAY ARRIVED, I called a cab to pick me up at our home, but my escape hadn’t gone as planned without a confrontation with Mother.
“Where are you off to?” she said, accosting me by the front door.
“Shopping,” I replied. “Don’t you remember that I mentioned last night I’d be shopping today with the allowance that Father gave me?”
“Well, I should come with you,” she firmly declared.
“No!” My voice echoed in the foyer. Mother jolted at my unladylike command.
“What are you up to, young lady?” Her eyes narrowed at me, and she took an intimidating step closer.
“Nothing,” I said, softening my tone. “I would prefer to shop on my own. After all, I’m no longer a child.” Mother cast a wary look in my direction.
“Fine,” she relented. “Well, you might as well shop for a dress and hat. The Royal Ascot is next week, and Father wishes you to attend.”
The Royal Ascot. I had never been, and a surge of excitement coursed through my veins. Being admitted to the Royal Enclosure was an honor, to say the least. Naturally, I wondered what their plans were for allowing me to attend such a high-society function.
“All right, I will keep that in mind,” I replied.
She turned and walked away, thankfully without a further word. After she had disappeared, I exited the house to my waiting cab.
“Where to, miss?”
“Harrods.”
Since I had a few hours before my rendezvous, I thought that I would at least begin a shopping spree. If I came home empty-handed, it would raise suspicion.
When the taxi dropped me off, I entered the store headed straight for the women’s dresses. As instructed, I should have shopped with the purpose of purchasing clothes for my upcoming social activities, but I only had Reginald in mind. I wondered what his preferences were in female clothing and remembered his shy wife who came to dinner years ago. She dressed conservatively that evening, matching her personality, while I, on the other hand, wore crimson red.
Deciding to choose the route of maturity to show Reginald that I was a woman and no longer a silly girl, I tried on a few dresses that attained that goal. When I found two that I liked, I paid the bill and hired another cab to take me to the pub. With bags in tow, I decided to search for a hat at a millinery store after lunch.
When I arrived and exited the cab, I examined the exterior of the establishment. Soho had not been an area of London that I frequented, so I doubted anyone who knew my family would recognize me in the area.
After pushing my way through the heavy wooden front door, I halted. It took my eyes a few moments to adjust because of the dark interior. My nose wrinkled at the smell of cigarette smoke and food aromas. When I finally made out the landscape of my surroundings, I glanced around and caught sight of Reginald, sitting at a table off to the left. He waved at me, and as soon as I started walking in his direction, he rose to his feet.
“Let me help you. It looks like you’ve been shopping,” Reginald cheerfully greeted. He grabbed the two bags out of my hands and placed them on an empty chair at the table.
“Yes, dress shopping,” I replied. He looked dreamy in a three-piece business suit. It was blue with gray pinstripes. His hair was slicked back and neat, and his trimmed mustache defined his smiling upper lip. As I glanced down at my plain day dress, I scolded myself for not choosing something a bit more fashionable for our meeting.
Reginald pulled out the chair and helped me get settled and then sat across the table. He looked at me attentively, grinning from ear to ear. Naturally, I couldn’t help but return his infectious fondness.
“You look beautiful,” he said.
A burst of heat filled my cheeks, turning them red. Reginald chuckled as if he sensed my embarrassment by the compliment.
“You look dapper too,” I added with a flirty gaze. “I like your suit.”
The sensations of male enticement bubbled inside, reminding me of the danger of letting them run loose. As I regarded Reginald, though, I knew in my heart the attraction differed because I had changed. My choices wouldn’t be the same. If we fell in love, it would be an occurrence for me to cherish rather than waste with one foolish decision.
“I’m famished,” he said, grabbing the two menus standing up, sandwiched between the salt and pepper shakers. “They have a rather swell cod fish and chips if you’d like a recommendation.”
Fish and chips. Frankly, I couldn’t remember the last time I had such an ordinary meal to enjoy. Living in a household with a French cook and meals with too many courses to count, it sounded deliciously fun.
“I like that idea,” I said. “Order me what you’re having.”
A waitress came to our table and placed two glasses of water before us. “Have you decided what you’d like for lunch?” She smiled a Reginald, barely taking notice of me. I couldn’t blame her because he did look rather dashing.
“We’ll have two orders of cod fish and chips,” he said.
“Cod,” she said, writing down the order on her pad. “Anything to drink?”
“What would like, Isabella?”
“Tea would be all right,” I answered.
“I’ll have Barclay’s ale.”
“Coming up,” the perky waitress responded.
“Hope you don’t mind my having a drink,” Reginald said apologetically.
“No, not at all. It probably goes great with the fish batter,” I teased. “Don’t they sometimes make beer batter?”
“They do, but the alcohol dissipates when they fry the fish.”
“Ah,” I responded, having no idea about beer batter deep-fry cooking.
The waitress returned with our drinks. While I added milk to my tea, Reginald appeared anxious for his first frothy gulp. He took one and then set the glass down on the table.
“So what have you been up to?” he asked, glancing at my bags. “It appears you purchased a few new frocks.” He teasingly peeked into one of them.
“Yes, dresses. Father has given me an allowance to buy a new wardrobe.” I hesitated for a moment and then asked him a silly question. “What is your favorite color?” His left brow rose above his eye, which I had never noticed before. It was an endearing ability to raise one eyebrow and leave the other in the same place.
“Oh, I don’t know,” he said. “Men never think about things like that.” After looking into the two bags, he commented on my choices. “It appears you like light blue and shades of purple.” He glanced over at me with a sly grin. “Should go well with your hair color.” After slurping a quick drink, he looked at me thoughtfully. “Are they for a special occasion?”
“The blue one is for my attendance at the
Royal Ascot.” When I made the announcement, I felt a tinge of embarrassment. I wondered, of course, if he had ever attended.
“You’ll need some fancy hat to go with it then.” He grinned. “I suppose with feathers, flowers, and all the other adornments.”
Wanting to change the subject, I took a sip of tea. “So you saw my father today?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact.”
“Does he see you often?”
“Often enough.” He pulled his eyes away as if he were avoiding the conversation.
“About what?” I pried.
He tilted his head and gave me a cautionary look. “Isabella, you know I cannot break solicitor confidentiality with a client.”
Of course I knew but wanted to test him, regardless.
“I hope I didn’t cause any trouble by calling your home,” my voice asked sheepishly.
“No, Esther, my nanny, wasn’t sure if it was important, so she telephoned me at work to let me know.” He paused and took another sip of ale. “If I have a private moment in my office, I can always telephone you back. But like I said, calling me there isn’t the best.”
“Understandable,” I assured him. “Of course, calling me at my home isn’t the best either.” My lips puffed a sigh. “It makes it difficult to communicate.”
“It does.” He pondered with downcast eyes.
“I heard a screaming child in the background when I called.” It was impossible not to mention.
“Screaming?” He chuckled aloud. “Yes, that would be my little one.”
Reginald used a generic reference, not giving me the gender. It didn’t defuse my interest, and my heart swelled affectionately. Thankfully, the waitress approached the table with our order. Otherwise, I think I would have overwhelmed him with nosey questions. It didn’t take long for him to dig in to his meal, acting as if he didn’t wish to discuss the matter further. There would be other occasions, of that I felt assured. Today, though, I just wanted to enjoy my time with him and not be an intrusive companion.
The aroma of the fish and chips wafted toward my nose, and I picked up the fork to take a bite.
Ladies of Disgrace Box Set Page 7