by Rebecca King
Ursula stared at him but, before she could reply, Eunice Sinnerton dropped her spoon and splattered soup all over her dress and the table.
“Oh, no. Drat it. Please take it away,” she leaned back and turned her head while the footman removed the offending bowl.
“Would you like another?” the hostess asked politely.
“No, thank you,” Mrs Sinnerton snapped as she dabbed at the spots on her dress. Suddenly, she looked up and pierced Ursula with a stare. “Do we have the pleasure of knowing who the estimable gentleman is?”
“Pardon?”
“I am sure that we shall endeavour to find out while she is in London,” her son declared quietly.
“Is he from Yorkshire?” Barbarella asked quickly and shared a knowing look with Brampton. Ursula frowned as she watched the interplay. She felt as though everyone knew something she didn’t and hated it.
“Yes, he is,” Trenton declared smoothly and threw Ursula a meaningful look as he took a sip of his wine.
“He is a long standing acquaintance,” Adelaide added and threw a cautionary look across the table at her niece.
Ursula looked from Trenton to Adelaide and shook her head. She hadn’t a clue what everyone was talking about. It was on the tip of her tongue to announce that she wasn’t engaged to anyone, but her father’s declaration on her last day in Yorkshire hovered over her. She couldn’t deny being engaged now without the risk of lying, just in case her father had accepted the offer he had received for her.
“Do we have a name for this long standing acquaintance?” Mrs Sinnerton asked. “I take it he is from Agglethorpe too?”
“I am sure that Miss Proctor will tell us who he is in her own good time, won’t you dear?” Frederick Beldrum declared quietly, although the curious look in his eye assured her that he wasn’t going to wait too patiently either.
“There will be a formal announcement in due course,” Trenton reported smoothly.
“Has anybody seen the new play at the Apollo yet? I have heard that it is the most frightful bore,” Adelaide announced to the table at large before anybody could probe further.
Thankfully, the hostess picked up the desperate need for a change of subject. She immediately reported the gossip she had heard about the lack of ability of the actors and the rather confusing storyline. When the other diners began to add their opinions, Ursula tuned out and focused on trying not to spill any of her soup. Her hands were trembling so much she was lucky she didn’t pour the watery substance all over herself.
Confused about what had just happened, she looked up at Trenton who was deep in conversation with the hostess, then turned her gaze toward her aunt, who was paying far too much attention to her soup to be convincing. Was Adelaide avoiding her gaze?
What was that all about? She mused with a frown. Why had he and Adelaide led everyone at the table to believe that she was to be married?
She winced as she thought about the letter she had received from her father last week informing her that she couldn’t remain in London beyond the end of the month. She had torn it up and tossed it into the fire, but knew she hadn’t heard the last of it from him.
Had Adelaide received a letter from her father too only not told her yet that her father had accepted an offer for her without her permission? That thought filled her with horror. She turned to look at her aunt, but found her gaze captured by Babarella instead. The woman’s baleful glare was so full of venom that Ursula immediately wondered if she had been the one to accost her on the towpath.
Determined not to allow the woman to upset her, she ran her gaze over the other guests until she came to rest upon Mrs Sinnerton, who was attempting to charm the man seated beside her. The people seated on either side of her were clearly trying to avoid conversing with the woman, but were drawn back to her time and time again by her loud manner and snorting laughter.
Bored, Ursula’s gaze turned toward Alfred Sinnerton. Her stomach dropped to find him staring straight at her. Their eyes met and held. She nodded amiably, but he didn’t blink or move; just continued to stare at her with those dark eyes of his that seemed almost soulless. She waited for several moments to see if he would smile or speak but, when he continued to stare at her, she turned her attention to the person seated beside her. She made no attempt to speak to him again, but was uncomfortably aware that his stare remained unbroken.
“So what do you do with your time, Sinnerton? I take it that you don’t work in your father’s practice in - Somerset, was it?” Trenton asked when Alfred’s staring began to make several people, not least Ursula, uncomfortable.
“Alas, I am afraid that poor Mr Sinnerton passed away last year,” Eunice Sinnerton piped up before her son could even draw breath.
Trenton glared at her and nearly told her to shut up. It had become apparent to anyone with a pair of eyes in their head that Alfred was staring almost longingly at Ursula, and for far longer than was polite. If Alfred hadn’t been taller than Ursula’s attacker on the towpath the other day, Trenton would have considered that Sinnerton had a rather dangerous attraction toward Ursula that needed to be dealt with.
He would have made a point of saying something to the man too, if Alfred’s manners hadn’t been better than his mother’s. As it was, besides staring, Alfred Sinnerton had not done, or said, anything that would cause anyone any offense. Engaging him in conversation was Trenton’s polite attempt to get him to focus on something other than Ursula for a while.
“So, have you taken over your father’s practice, Alfred?” Adelaide asked, and glared at Eunice in silent warning to let the man speak for himself. “Come now, Mr Sinnerton. We have heard a lot from your mother, but we have yet to hear from you. Do you work at the moment?”
“No. Not at the moment. The partners took over father’s practice last year,” Alfred replied, clearly uncomfortable at being the centre of attention.
Good, Ursula mused waspishly, relieved that he had turned his attention to his plate at last. See how he likes being stared at.
“What is it you do?” Adelaide prompted when the table fell into silence.
“He is working with me for a while,” Mrs Sinnerton replied. “We have Mr Sinnerton’s papers to go through and are working through that before we undertake a more permanent move to London.”
Ursula sighed when Alfred chose that moment to resume his staring. When she couldn’t stand it a moment longer, she threw him a dark look and turned her attention to the person seated to her right. Unfortunately, that turned out to be Sinnerton’s sister; Hyacinth, the studiously quiet one.
“It’s Hyacinth, isn’t it?” Ursula asked quietly. She felt a pang of sympathy toward the younger woman, who resembled a frightened rabbit as her head nodded jerkily in acknowledgement. It bothered her to note just how strange the Sinnertons were, but persisted in trying to lure the young woman into conversation anyway.
“How do you like London? If you hail from Somerset, I suppose you also find it considerably different to everything you are used to.”
“Not really,” the younger woman replied briskly. She turned eyes on Ursula that were so cold, so dark, that Ursula immediately leaned back in her seat. If she didn’t know better, she would think that Mrs Sinnerton’s daughter really didn’t like her.
Unsure of what else she could say, Ursula turned her attention to her soup.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Trenton sat on the edge of his bed and ran a weary hand through his hair. Frustration had remained with him throughout the night and rendered sleep impossible. His broad shoulders were naked in the chill of the bedroom, but it paid the cold no attention. Thoughts of Ursula, her attacker, the Sinnertons’ strange behaviour, and the strange goings on around Ursula, kept troubling him, leaving him oblivious to everything but the cloud of confusion that brought him more questions than answers.
Alfred Sinnerton’s avid staring at Ursula had been so blatant, almost to the point of rudeness, that everyone had been uncomfortable and wary throughout the meal.
It had been something of a relief to be able to leave the table and go home at the end of the evening.
That had certainly been the case for Ursula, who had scurried into the carriage with Adelaide without a backward look.
If the mystery of the Sinnertons wasn’t enough to contend with, there were now rumours going about that Trenton was to marry Ursula. He didn’t mind that at all, except for the fact that he had yet to further his relationship with Ursula enough to even get her to speak with him, let alone consider marriage. To add to that mire, he also had the added issue of Brampton and Barbarella’s apparent scheming to deal with. As far as everyone was concerned, those two had taken to spending far too much time with their heads together for anyone’s comfort. Additionally, Barbarella’s clear dislike of Ursula rang alarm bells. He had to wonder whether that hatred was being stirred by Brampton. That being the case; why? Brampton wasn’t short of lovers; why would someone like him bother with Ursula, especially with Barbarella available?
Trouble was brewing; he just knew it. If Trenton could only find out if that trouble came from Alfred Sinnerton, Brampton, or Barbarella, he would be some way closer to discovering the identity of Ursula’s attacker, he was sure of it.
Having barely escaped recently from Barbarella’s schemes with his bachelorhood intact, he was under no illusions of just how manipulative the cunning blonde could be. To be aided and abetted by a nefarious rogue who was clearly put out at Trenton’s involvement with Ursula, didn’t bode well. It would be better for everyone if Trenton could further is acquaintance with Ursula as quickly as possible and make an announcement about their engagement quickly. They could then ensure that everyone knew that Ursula was no longer on the marriage market. Brampton and Sinnerton would both then be forced to focus their rather dubious attentions elsewhere, and Jeremiah could stop fretting about his eldest daughter.
Unfortunately, getting Ursula to stand still long enough for him to have a decent conversation with her was damned near impossible. On several occasions since the Beldrum’s dinner last week, he had made a point of approaching her for a chat only for her to make her excuses and leave after only a few minutes of polite conversation.
Was she avoiding him because he had hinted at the dinner that she was to be married? Was she that averse to the prospect that the man he and Adelaide had hinted she would marry was him? He frowned at that. It just didn’t seem possible that she objected to being connected to him, not after the way she had eagerly returned his kisses. If only he could spend some time alone with her then he could get to the bottom of what was wrong. As it was, unless he was going to start following her around and gazing at her adoringly like Alfred Sinnerton did, he was going to have to resort to drastic measures.
Decision made, he rang for his butler.
Thankfully, his endeavours were aided by a dramatic turn of events that changed everything later that morning. When he arrived at Adelaide’s house, he was met in the morning room by Ursula, who was clearly distressed.
“What is it, darling? What’s happened?” he demanded as he stalked across the room toward her.
To his surprise Ursula promptly burst into tears. He gently eased her into his arms and murmured soothingly to her for several moments while he waited patiently for her to vent the worst of her emotion. When she eventually began to calm down, he leaned back and looked down at her. “What’s happened?”
“It’s Adelaide,” she whispered. “She fell down the stairs last night. We were supposed to go out to the theatre to see that play she was talking about. She was at the top of the stairs and lost her balance somehow. She tumbled all the way down the whole flight of stairs.”
“How is she?” he asked.
He suspected that the news wasn’t good if Ursula was so upset. Adelaide was a lively lady who enjoyed the heady whirl of social engagements and actively threw herself into regular morning walks around Hyde Park. However, she was in her eighties, and in spite of her rather robust ways, was rather frail.
“The doctor has seen her. She has several bumps and bruises and is a little disorientated and confused. She has been confined to her bed for the next few days. The doctor said she should be alright in time, but is not well. She needs to go to the country to rest and recuperate.” Ursula hiccupped. “She fell down the stairs, Trenton. She went such a clatter that the whole house ran to see what happened. She could have died.”
“Adelaide is very agile and in good health. I am sure if the doctor says she is going to be alright then she will be alright. Is she lucid?”
“I have been sitting with her but she is asleep. She looks so pale.” Her voice trailed off to a whisper.
Trenton nodded, understanding her upset. He had felt exactly the same way when Ursula had been injured.
“It is horrid when someone you care about so deeply is hurt, Ursula,” he murmured gently. “Your aunt is elderly but I am sure that with some rest she will make a full recovery. However, you know Adelaide. If she remains in London, she will undoubtedly join the social whirl far sooner than she ought. I think it would be wiser if she was to go to Yorkshire to recuperate as soon as she is strong enough to travel.”
Ursula nodded. “I need to write to Papa. I think she would be better off going too but she got upset when I suggested it. I like it here, but it is a constant whirl of social engagements that she just isn’t well enough to cope with. Not now.”
“I don’t think she should go just yet. Not if the doctor has ordered her to remain in bed,” Trenton argued. “For now, she may not be well enough to endure such a journey. The journey to Yorkshire takes several days in a carriage, being shaken about. She will fare much better staying where she is for now. Once she is up and about, I suggest we approach her again about going to visit Jeremiah until she is better. Nobody here needs to know what has happened if she doesn’t wish to tell her friends. She can just tell everyone she is going to spend Christmas in the country with family.”
“Thank you,” she whispered. She leaned back to look up at him. “For everything. You have been such a tremendous help to me. How can I ever repay you?”
Trenton smiled at her. “Make sure you don’t fall down the stairs,” he declared wryly.
When she smiled, he felt some of his earlier frustrations start to wane. That is, until he spotted a new arrangement of posies on the table next to the fireplace that looked startlingly familiar to the ones he thought he had stopped.
“Please tell me that isn’t another one,” he murmured darkly with a nod toward the offending flowers.
She nodded. “The footman accepted it when Aunt Adelaide and I were out taking our morning walk the other day. Nothing else has arrived since though. The card is different too, look,” she murmured and handed him the card that had arrived with it.
Your beloved is waiting. Soon, darling.
Trenton stared at it for several long moments and went cold inside.
“What do you think it means?”
“It means that you have to be very careful where you go from now on, and who with,” he declared quietly, thinking about the man on the towpath.
“Well, with Adelaide in bed at the moment I am not likely to be going anywhere,” she sighed. “Would you like to stay for tea?”
He nodded and took a seat while she rang for a maid.
“I need to go and speak with the flower seller again, I think,” he murmured as he flicked the card with his finger. “May I keep this for a while?”
“Yes, of course,” she replied hesitantly.
“What is it? What aren’t you telling me?”
“I don’t think it is from the same person,” she replied quietly as collected one of the original set of cards she had received and took a seat beside him. She held up two cards side-by-side so he could compare them. “The handwriting is different, look.”
He frowned at the difference, and mentally cursed. She either had two admirers now, or her original admirer had help.
Admirers, he mused in disgust. They are
more like sinister stalkers than admirers.
“I just don’t understand what is going on,” she burst out. She hated to feel so helpless; so much at the mercy of someone she couldn’t even see. Being subjected to her father’s dictates was one thing, but at least she sat in his study while he dictated her life. The unknown sender of the cards and flowers was preventing her from going where she wanted, when she wanted, and she didn’t even know who it was.
“Do you think they are following me?” She asked, almost dreading his answer.
“You are a beautiful woman, Ursula,” Trenton argued, unwilling to frighten her too much by admitting that he rather suspected she was. “You have an admirer, that’s all. He has sent you several arrangements of flowers and, well, several cards with flowery prose on them. There is nothing sinister to it, really, now is there?” He hated to sound so reasonable, especially when his concern had just grown considerably.
“I am not beautiful enough to warrant this level of dedication,” she snorted in disbelief. “You cannot ignore the fact that since I have been here, my bedroom has been broken into and I have been knocked unconscious by an unknown assailant. Why, I have lived in Yorkshire all of my life and haven’t even had one of these events happen before. Now, within a month of my arrival in London, chaos ensues.”
In spite of the seriousness of the situation, Trenton smiled. “Then you shouldn’t be so darned attractive,” he mused wryly.
Ursula rolled her eyes. “I am being serious here,” she replied, but couldn’t withhold her smile.
Determined to keep her mind on her concerns, and off just how handsome Trenton looked this morning, she stood and began to march up and down in front of the fireplace. “Something odd is going on. In addition to the flowers. Did you see how that Sinnerton man kept staring at me at dinner the other night? It was far beyond the pale. There isn’t just that, but there is Brampton to consider. Everywhere I go, Brampton appears.”