Toblethorpe Manor (20 page)

When they returned, Miss Fell was in the mopes. She had been made acquainted with at least twenty people and not one had even said she looked familiar. Lucy, on the other hand, had thrown off her depression and her headache. She seemed to have made up her mind about something, and there was a determined look in her eye that made Lady Annabel wonder, with a sigh, what she would be up to next.

In the morning, Lucy disappeared early, taking only Molly, her maid. Lady Annabel, who had planned a shopping expedition, was vexed.

“I fear Lucy is become a sad romp. Well, she will have to go without her new ribbons. We can concentrate on your purchases, Clara.”

Miss Fell was to receive new gloves, stockings and footwear. Her vehement objections had been overborne.

“Clara, I cannot take you about looking like a dowd. Made-over gowns are acceptable, indeed you look charming in them, though I should dearly like to see you in a new one. However, I understand your unwillingness. But gloves and slippers
never
fit properly if they had been purchased for someone else. It will not answer. The silk stockings shall be a little extra present from me, because I am so fond of you. Come, kiss me, my dear, and do not cry.
You will make your eyes red. It is All Fools’ Day, so humour a foolish old lady.”

Miss Fell was beginning to wish the London scheme had never been mooted. By Tuesday evening she had met fifty members of the Fashionable World and more. Not one had recognized her. She felt she was becoming deeper and deeper in debt to the Carstairs and was oppressed by her total inability to repay them. That night, however, she decided she must put aside her crotchets. Richard was taking them to the theatre.

They went to see a comedy in deference to Lucy’s tastes. It was a new production, and the theatre was quite filled up. In the boxes sat the Quality, ready to be amused but more interested in noting who was present, waving and bowing to acquaintances, or studying each other’s dress, than in the performance. The pit held many single gentlemen, and hoi polloi; a raucous hubbub rose thence to join the discreet murmur of the Ton
.

Miss Fell was fascinated to observe the audience, but Lucy sat back fanning herself languidly. After six weeks in London, she considered herself an habituée and refused to show any excitement. When the show began, however, she was glued to the stage and laughed as readily as any shopgirl in the pit, whereas Miss Fell decided the play was far from extraordinary and heard few lines that made her smile.

In the interval, their box became crowded with Lucy’s admirers and friends of Lady Annabel. Richard proposed that he and Miss Fell should step out for some air. It was almost as crowded in the corridor, and Richard was constantly being greeted by acquaintances. Some of these he presented to Miss Fell, others he passed with a word. Then he was accosted by a stout, florid gentleman with porcine eyes.

“Ho, Carstairs,” he accused, “so this is the ladybird you’ve been hiding. A real bird of paradise.” He winked, and looked Miss Fell up and down in a most disagreeable way.

“Miss Fell is sponsored by Lady Annabel, Sir Philip,” said Richard coldly. “You will excuse us.”

The leering baronet was not at all discomposed. “Greedy dog. Want to keep her all to yourself, hey? I’ll be seeing you, my pretty.
I
know all about riding on the moors early in the morning!”

Richard turned his back and led Miss Fell away. She felt a little faint.

“What a cursed position to be in, when Rossiter can so insult you,” Richard said savagely.
“
Come,
we will return to my mother at once. This is an abominable crush.”

Miss Fell found it difficult to concentrate on the second act. She suspected it was not a very good play anyway, though the audience was laughing heartily. When the second interval came, Lucy and Lady Annabel proposed to take a stroll, but Miss Fell could not face the possibility of seeing Sir Philip again, so she chose to remain in their box. Richard offered to fetch her a glass of lemonade, and she gratefully accepted.

He had scarcely been gone a minute when she was horrified to see Sir Philip entering the box. Summoning up her courage, she told him that Mr. Carstairs was not present.

“The jealous lover is out of the way, is he? Well, my beauty, don’t be shy, give me a kiss.”

He moved toward her and she jumped up from her seat. She backed away, realizing too late that he would have her pinned in a corner. He seized her wrist and bent toward her. Not daring to cry out for fear of drawing curious eyes, she struggled desperately as he pressed himself against her.

Suddenly the baronet felt his shoulder seized in a grip of iron.

“Let go her wrists!” hissed Richard, “and turn around if you dare.”

Sir Philip swung around, his hand reaching for his cane. He had scarce touched it when Richard’s fist caught him on the chin and he went over backward, his flying arm hitting Miss Fell on the shoulder as he struck the wall and slumped to the floor.

“That was a clumsy bit of work,” apologized Richard ruefully. “Did the swine hurt you? I’ll see he is thrown out of all his clubs!”

“Oh no,” whispered Miss Fell shakily, looking in distress at his bruised and bloodied knuckles as he helped her over the recumbent baronet. “You came in time. Pray do not punish him any further. It would only create a scandal.”

“You are right,” agreed Richard regretfully, “though Lord knows it is something I have been wanting to do this age.” He looked around. “I don’t believe anyone noticed, it is dark here at the back of the box. I must take you home immediately; you are shaking. Only how to dispose of the body?”

“When the next act begins, the corridor will be empty, and you may leave him out there with no one the wiser. Except, of course, Lady Annabel and your sister.” Her voice trembled. “You are right: I bring nothing but trouble on you.”

“Come, sit down. Do not distress yourself. My mother has as little liking for Rossiter as I and will be happy to see him come by his just deserts. We shall do as you suggested and then I shall take you back to Cavendish Square.”

“Might it not be remarked if we should leave early?”

“What, with this devilish play? I am surprised there is anyone left in the audience. Besides, you and mama are known to be convalescent.”

Willingly accepting his reassurances and soothed by his calm, matter-of-fact manner, she laughed shakily. “I am glad your opinion of the play coincides with mine. It is dreadful, is it not? It seems to arouse such enthusiasm that I hesitated to criticize it.”

“Your taste is impeccable, Miss Fell,” he answered, with more warmth in his voice than he had intended to display. His admiration for the courageous way she put the unpleasantness behind her, together with the new evidence of her need for his protection, made him want to take her in his arms and kiss her. He might have done so, but for the realization that she had just fought off one such attempt. What assurance had he that his embrace would be any more welcome to her than Sir Philip’s? He let her bind his bleeding hand with her handkerchief.

Lady Annabel and Lucy returned to the box, gasped at the sight of Sir Philip, who was stirring and groaning, and were regaled with the story. They were full of solicitude and agreed that they must go home at once. Richard, with Lucy’s unnecessary but gleeful assistance, dragged the baronet into the corridor and dumped him unceremoniously, then they departed.

Lady Annabel insisted that Miss Fell should retire as soon as they arrived home. She was more than ready to comply. Besides the lingering shock of the baronet’s attack, she was oppressed by the truth she had uttered to Richard, the echo of what he had said to her. She brought only trouble on her benefactors. What if Richard did love her, as she sometimes suspected he might? She could not allow him to ally himself to a nobody, and an unlucky nobody at that. The butcher was high on her list again, but she was beginning to feel that she would never know who her parents were.

She had been entertaining the thought that she might be able to earn her living as a musician. Now it appeared to her to be of the utmost importance that she should become independent and cease to be a burden to her dear friends.

After shedding a few tears, she slept.

Morning brought no new counsel. Miss Fell did not go down to breakfast but was too restless to stay in bed.

Hoping for solitude, she went into the library to think out her first move on the road toward finding employment.

As she stood by the window, gazing out unseeingly, Richard entered the room. As she did not look at him, he came to stand behind her, supposing that something in the garden held her attention. Deep in thought, she did not realize his presence until he was close to her. She turned, and found him so near that she lost her balance. He reached to steady her, his hands gripping her shoulders, and then suddenly his arms were around her and his lips were on hers. She resisted a moment, then gave in to the wave of feeling that surged through her. His mouth pressed on hers in a long, sweet kiss.

Miss Fell was the first to recover her senses. She pulled away from him and unwillingly he let her go. He took both her hands in his and his dark eyes gazed deep into her grey-green ones.

“Will you marry me?” he asked simply.

She drew a deep breath. Thinking that she was hesitating, he rushed on, “You must know that I have long admired you. It is my dearest wish to have the right to protect you from such insults as you received last night.”

He had better not have spoken. He gave her time to think, even unknowingly reminded her of her resolve. Even now, had he told her of his love she might have cast caution to the winds, but he was too used to suppressing his emotions.
He thinks of me as a cross between a musical genius and a lost puppy,
she thought. It would not be long before a nameless wife became a burden to him.

“I cannot,” she answered.

The hurt puzzlement in his eyes nearly made her break down. She could not stay to explain her decision. Once again, she ran from him.

Chapter 13

Lucy was quite unaware of the complex currents of emotion that joined her brother and her dear friend. When the two arrived from Yorkshire she had been very distressed that she was not to be permitted to nurse Miss Fell. However, her aunt had insisted that she accompany them to Almack’s that very evening.

“Lucy, I will not have you indulging in the sullens. Your poor mama has enough to cope with, without my report that you are repining.”

“I beg your pardon, Aunt Blanche,” Lucy apologized. She obediently dressed for Almack’s and soon forgot her disgruntlement in Charles’s arms. Having been impressed all her life with the idea that gentlemen are not interested in sickbeds, she barely mentioned her friend’s indisposition to him, though she discussed it more fully with Tony, who, after all, was acquainted with Miss Fell and her story.

She danced two waltzes with the major. He would not take her to supper, fearing that his constant attendance might be noticed and lead to comment.

“I care for nothing the old cats can say,” objected Lucy scornfully.

“Nor I,” he answered pacifically. “But if your friend is seriously ill, I shall not be able to speak to your brother for some time, and I cannot like it that he might hear rumours before I have seen him.”

Lucy, who dreaded that interview, would have done anything to postpone it. Sorry as she was that Clara was taken with the grippe, she could not but see the advantages of living with Aunt Blanche for a while. Richard would not be looking on disapprovingly every time she spoke to Charles.

In fact, she saw very little of her brother for a full week. He was home most of the day with Miss Fell, and their evening entertainments did not coincide. Occasionally she met him in the park if she went out early riding or driving. However, Charles was still busy in the mornings with his military duties, so he and Richard did not meet. Lord Denham was her usual escort at that time, though there was generally a crowd of friends and acquaintances surrounding them.

Lucy spent the greater part of every afternoon with Charles, with only her cousin Jenny or her maid as chaperone. If the weather was fine, they met in one of the parks and wandered for hours up and down secluded paths, followed at a discreet distance by maid or cousin, each of whom had her own beau to attend her. When the weather was inclement, Charles would come to Orchard Street and Lucy would have the butler deny her to other visitors. Her aunt was usually out visiting her many acquaintances, and she rarely insisted on Lucy’s presence at her side. Lucy made no secret of the fact that she saw Major Bowen frequently, but nor did she allow Aunt Blanche to know just how frequently, or how intimately.

The major, in seventh heaven, had no objections. He would quickly have pointed out the absence of a chaperone and condemned any attempt at secrecy, as Lucy knew well, so she did not resort to such measures though greatly attracted by their romantic aspect.

They usually met in the evening also, for while Charles was not invited to the small, intimate gatherings of the Carstairs’ close circle, he had entrée to all the balls and dress parties, masquerades and routs. Hostesses quickly opened their doors to such a personable young gentleman, sponsored by Lord Harry Graham and with a fortune, too, according to rumour. High sticklers might ask who were his family, but the greater part of the Fashionable World was happy to welcome an officer who had fought for his country at a time when most of the British Army was lounging at home expecting an invasion.

Boney was sitting across the Channel building vast fleets of troop carriers and awaiting the time when favorable weather and a moment of inattention on the part of blockading fleets should give him his chance. Gentlemen and commoners alike were running to join the reserves, for fear of being mustered into the Regular Army; and, equipped with ancient pikes and halberds, the reserves were desperately in need of officers with some knowledge of military matters.

When Charles told his superiors he was seriously considering selling out, he was immediately offered the rank of acting lieutenant colonel in the reserves. He discussed it with Lucy.