106. Love's Dream in Peril (14 page)

“How often do you meet him?”

“Oh, we have only met once. But he promised we would meet again when he has free time.” Adella squeezed her friend’s hands. “Oh, Jane! He loves me, just as I love him, I am sure of it.”

The weight that was building up in Jane’s heart grew heavier. She could see now that Adella looked thin and pale and it was so gloomy here in this drawing room.

“Adella, do you know what he is doing here?”

“Yes. He told me. He is studying for the law.”

“Did you know he has no money, Adella? Nothing at all?”

Adella’s eyes were wide.

“Why are you telling me this, Jane?” she asked.

A shiver passed through Jane’s limbs as she told her friend what Mrs. Mottram had said on the last day of term about the fortune-hunters who would pursue Adella when she came to London.

Adella laughed.

“Jane, that’s ridiculous. Digby loves me and if he loves me, it does not matter at all that he has no money. I shall have plenty, more than enough, when I come of age.”

Adella, with a wild light of happiness in her eyes, asserted once again that Digby loved her.

“I am certain of it, Jane. When I am with him, he makes me feel so happy – so safe. It was like that from the very first moment I met him.”

Jane did not know what to do. What Lord Ranulph had told her, when she encountered him in the street in Oxford, that Digby had only taken Adella to the Botanical Gardens to win a wager, filled her mind like a dark stain.

Digby might seem like a charming, well-meaning fellow. But if the story about the wager was true, perhaps he had never really cared for her friend at all.

“Adella, I must tell you something,” Jane said after a moment and, as she revealed all, she saw the light vanish from Adella’s eyes.

“I don’t believe it!” she cried. “A wager? He took me to the Botanical Gardens just to win a bet?”

Jane felt suddenly sad to have spoiled Adella’s joy.

“Well, I am sure he will meet you again soon,” she said. “I will try and speak to him at the house and tell him how much you are looking forward to seeing him again.”

Adella nodded and a half-smile crossed her face.

Jane could tell that a seed of doubt was growing in her mind and it was no longer possible for her to feel the utter happiness that had been hers a few minutes ago.

Now she wished that she had said nothing about the wager, as Adella made a brave effort to return to her usual high spirits.

“Jane, do come and see some of my new dresses. I can scarcely believe how beautiful they are.”

“Dearest Adella, I cannot. I have to go back to the children. But please, forget what I said. It means nothing. I will talk to Digby and everything will be all right.”

It was hard to leave Adella, who looked very small and very alone on the sofa in the sombre drawing room.

Beside her, Jane noticed a large bouquet of flowers resting against the cushions, still wrapped in paper.

“These flowers should have water,” she said. “They are so lovely and they will soon wilt in the heat.”

She picked up the heavy bouquet and saw that a card was fixed to the wrapping paper.

At once her heart was leaping inside her, frantic as a caged squirrel.

She had tried so hard to forget the way that he made her feel but the sight of Lord Ranulph’s name, so carelessly scrawled on the little card, brought a rush of sensation she could barely control.

“Take them, Jane. I don’t want them. My room is full of flowers already.” Adella pushed the bouquet aside.

Jane knew that she should not do this, that she must not look at his signature again or think that his hands had held these flowers.

But she could not help herself. She picked them up and inhaled their heady fragrance.

“Adella, thank you so much,” she sighed. “I will see you very soon and don’t worry, I will speak to Digby.”

She clasped the bouquet to her chest and before she left the drawing room, she went to the window and drew back one curtain, so that a ray of sunshine streamed in.

She looked back from the hall to see Adella now sitting in a pool of golden light.

‘Everything will be all right,’ Jane told herself as she walked back to the Drydens’ house.

But the unease she had felt earlier was still there, a troubling shadow at the back of her mind.

As Jane made her way back to the Drydens’ house with Lord Ranulph’s bouquet held tight in her arms, Digby was hard at work at the Judge’s Chambers.

He was sorting through a mountain of papers that were needed urgently by the lawyers.

It was hard to focus on his task, for all he could think about was Adella.

It had been far too long since their meeting in the Square. He had not had a moment to try and see her over the last two weeks, as a very important case was coming up and it was his responsibility to ensure that all the evidence was properly filed and organised.

He rubbed his eyes and then went slowly through everything one more time, until someone knocked on the door of his room.

It was Judge Dryden.

“Good work,” he said, casting an eye over the piles of papers.

And then he claimed that he was hungry and invited Digby to accompany him to the
Chop House
for luncheon.

It was a rare treat indeed for Digby to eat a cooked luncheon or for that matter any luncheon at all, as he was usually rushing about fetching food for all the lawyers at the Chambers, who did not want to leave their desks.

When Digby’s mutton chops and boiled potatoes arrived, he tucked in hungrily, just as the Judge was doing.

“One must not forget to eat,” the Judge commented. “It is all too easy in our busy profession.”

Then he changed the subject completely,

“Have you heard about the great scandal on Dorset Square?” he asked.

Digby shook his head.

“Our neighbour’s niece, Miss Adella May, has sent away her aristocratic suitor with a flea in his ear and old Edgar May is furious.”

Adella
– with a suitor
? Digby hoped that the Judge could not see how deeply this affected him.

“I didn’t know she had – an admirer,” he stuttered.

“Yes. Lord Ranulph Fowles.”

Digby felt his mouth open in surprise and quickly shut it again. Lord Ranulph? And Adella? She had not said anything about this when he saw her.

Judge Dryden helped himself to a toothpick.

“They say she has fallen for another young man. Some penniless fortune-hunter apparently.”

Digby felt his face turn scarlet with confusion.

“Wh-who might that be?”

“Ah – that is the mystery. Apparently Lord Ranulph caught them together. In Dorset Square, of all places, and on the very day he intended to make her his fiancée!”

The Judge frowned and continued,

“Her uncle has his work cut out, being responsible for a girl who will come into such wealth. She will be prey to all kinds of unscrupulous men.”

Digby’s image of Adella was of the sweet innocent young lady he had met in Oxford, still a schoolgirl. He had never considered that she might have a fortune.

“She will be one of the richest young ladies in all of London when she comes of age.”

The Judge wiped his lips with a napkin.

“I hope that she can be prevented from making any foolish attachments until she has grown older and wiser.”

Digby felt as if the breath had been knocked out of him.

Adella was to be a rich woman! She was a young lady with everything in the world and he was just a poor apprentice lawyer, who could not even pay for his own luncheon and was living off his cousin’s charity.

He watched the Judge draw a handful of sovereigns from his pocket and dropped one on the table to pay for their meal.

“I daresay that the rogue who has been insinuating himself into her good graces will back off now everyone knows what is going on,” the Judge said and then looked at Digby. “Are you all right? You have gone a most peculiar colour.”

“I ate my luncheon too fast,” Digby said. “I shall be fine in just another moment.”

His mind was racing. Clearly the Judge had no idea that it was he, Digby, whom everyone was gossiping about.

There was nothing for it, he had better come clean.

Digby took a deep breath and told the Judge how he had met Adella in Dorst Square.

Judge Dryden’s eyebrows rose so high they almost disappeared.

“What?”

“Yes, it was quite by chance that we bumped into each other. We met once before in Oxford and I did not know that she had become involved with Lord Ranulph.”

The Judge placed his hands on the table, as Digby had seen him do in Court, when he was preparing to pass judgement.

“What are your feelings for this young lady?”

Digby could not help himself.

“I love her,” he admitted. “She is simply the most wonderful girl I have ever met.”

“Listen very carefully to what I am going to say.” The Judge’s voice was deep and resonant. “If you love this girl, then you must leave her alone. To see her again will compromise her reputation.”

“But she will be so upset. I have let her down once already.”

The Judge was not listening.

“You are penniless, Digby, and she is an heiress. You say you love her. Would you like her to be a laughing stock in Society?”

“Of course not.”

“Then you must not see her again.”

“But – I will have to – just once. I must explain.”

“No,” Judge Dryden said in a firm tone. “Digby. Does she love you?”

“Yes, I think she does!”

Digby’s heart lifted as he remembered how Adella had looked into his eyes in the Square and how soft her lips had been when he kissed her.

“Will she plead with you and beg you to reconsider when you say that you must not see her again?”

“Yes, I suppose she will.” Digby thought of how Adella had clung to him, frightened that she might lose him again after she had seen the figure on the path.

“Will you be able to resist her pleas?”

“I – don’t know.”

The Judge stood up.

“I will say no more. I leave you to consider whether it is wise to see her again or not.”

As he walked back to the Chambers with the Judge, Digby’s heart felt very heavy indeed.

He knew that he could not, must not see Adella again. She loved him very much. That he could not doubt.

But to be thought of as a fortune-hunter, to have all of Society sneering at him and making fun of Adella, he simply could not bear to think of it.

‘When I am a rich lawyer, if she is still free, I will go to her and I will tell her how I feel. But until then, there is nothing I can do,’ he told himself.

They arrived back at the Chambers and, thanking the Judge for his luncheon, Digby returned to his work.

*

Lord Ranulph had been sitting on the bench under the trees in Dorset Square since the sun came up.

He had to see Adella, even if he did not speak to her. Just a glimpse of her golden hair at a window or, even better, the sight of her walking down the front steps would ease the tight painful feeling that gripped his heart. He had not seen her for two weeks now.

Lady Ireton had been right, it was best not to put pressure on Adella to marry him.

But surely, soon she would be ready to receive his proposal once again and this time she must say ‘yes’.

In the early hours of the morning, when it was still dark, he had gone to the Flower Market at Covent Garden to choose the finest flowers for her.

No girl could wish for a bigger or lovelier bouquet.

When she gazed into the hearts of the luscious pink and cream roses, surely she would understand the depth of his feeling for her.

He shifted impatiently on the bench, for his body was aching from sitting so long.

No. 82 was very quiet and still. Various servants had come and gone through the morning, but there was no sign of Adella. He had seen the old butler pull the drawing room curtains across, which was most frustrating, as surely that was where Adella must be sitting.

A moment ago a hand had drawn the curtains back a little, so that his heart leapt with excitement, but still he could not see her.

What should he do? Give up and return home or risk everything by knocking on the front door and asking to see her?

His mind ran back and forth from one option to the other.

And then, the front door of No. 82 opened and a girl came out, carrying an armful of flowers.

Lord Ranulph leapt to his feet, his heart pounding, his head spinning with excitement.

Adella
! he gasped, struggling to compose himself.

Her lovely face, her bright hair, were hidden behind the flowers, but incredibly she was coming towards him into the Square.

Had she peeped from behind the curtains of No. 82 and spied him, sitting so patiently on the bench?

Or, miracle of miracles, had she somehow sensed his presence, felt his love, his passion, flowing out to her from his aching heart?

The gate squeaked on its hinges and now she was walking along the path, her face buried in the flowers.

But, and his body turned chill with shock, this girl was not Adella.

She was a tall girl, much taller than Adella and she walked with long graceful strides.

And he could see, as she lowered the bouquet, that her hair was dark and lustrous, shining in the morning sun.

As she looked up and saw him, she stopped in her tracks and gave a little cry.

It was Adella’s friend from Oxford. Miss Hartley. She turned swiftly, as if to go back out of the Square.

“Wait! Please.” Lord Ranulph leapt to his feet and at the sound of his voice she froze in her tracks.

He went up to her and she stared at him, her large eyes vulnerable and afraid like a deer at bay.

“What – what are you doing here?” he asked.

She shook her head and seemed unable to reply.

“I am very sorry, Miss Hartley. I don’t mean to be abrupt. Please, won’t you sit down?”

He led her to the bench and she sat down, holding the flowers, which trembled a little in her arms.

“You have been to see Adella,” he said, trying to ignore the sight of his precious bouquet still in its paper wrapping.