A Wealthy Widow

‘Yes, she is,’ Captain Hernshaw agreed. ‘She is enjoying herself very much this visit. A friend of hers is staying with Lady Tate and they go everywhere together.’

‘Ah, I see,’ Charles nodded. ‘Do you care for a game of cards?’

‘I was about to visit my fencing master. I feel in need of some exercise. If you don’t mind my saying so, Hunter, you look as if it would do you good. Why don’t you come along?’ He glanced across the room as a gentleman entered. ‘Besides, the air here has just become somewhat tainted. It is a pity that he cannot be blackballed.’

Charles glanced in the direction of the other’s gaze, seeing the reason for Hernshaw’s distaste. Sir Courtney Welch had just entered the club and was standing looking in their direction, his eyes narrowed in concentration.

‘I couldn’t agree more,’ he said. ‘The man is a devil—let us go. Did you say your fencing club?’

‘I have been taking lessons from a new master recently—it is amusing to discover one’s own failings at the very least. And better than being invited to join Welch in a hand of whist.’

‘Well, yes, anything must be. A lesson in swordplay from a master is perhaps just what I need,’ Charles agreed with a grin. He had been labouring beneath a dark cloud for too long and a good fight with the swords might put him right. ‘I’m grateful, Hernshaw. I was at a loss to know what to do with myself.’ He nodded distantly to Sir Courtney as they passed.

‘Come to Melinda’s affair this evening,’ Hernshaw said as they went out into the street. ‘It’s only a buffet supper, music and cards, but I am sure she and Harry would be delighted to see you.’

‘Thank you, I shall,’ Charles said. He was feeling better for having met a friend. He had already sent three agents up to Yorkshire to search for his sister and there was no point in moping. Had his mother not decided that she would visit London the following week he would probably have posted off to Yorkshire himself in the morning, which would quite likely have been a wasted journey. His agents had far more chance of discovering news of Sarah than he had. ‘Yes, I would enjoy that, Hernshaw. I need a bit of light relief to blow the megrims away…’

‘I think I shall give a dinner at the end of next week,’ Lady Tate said as they were taking tea that afternoon. ‘A great friend of mine is coming up for a short visit. She will stay at her own house, of course, but I want to do something for her. She has been quite ill, you know. I think there was some kind of bother with her daughter, though she didn’t say quite what…Sarah was ill of a fever, I believe, and went to stay with cousins in Scotland. Selina was rather vague about it all, but she had a severe chill herself and was unwell for months.’

‘Poor lady,’ Arabella said. ‘It will be nice for you to see her, Aunt. We shall, of course, arrange a dinner party in her honour, but I dare say you will want to be private with her one afternoon. If you let me know, I shall take Tilda out so that you are not disturbed.’

‘Ah, yes, dear Tilda,’ Lady Tate said, smiling absently. ‘Always such a help to me, but rather inclined to come in when one doesn’t want her.’ She shook her head. ‘Being a companion is not an easy life, my dear. We must always remember that.’

‘Yes, of course I do,’ Arabella replied. ‘Tell me when your friend is coming to tea and I shall take Tilda shopping. It is quite time she had a new dress and a bonnet too.’

‘Such a generous girl,’ Lady Tate said, giving her a look of approval. ‘I was thinking about this evening, my dear—’ She broke off as the door opened and Tilda entered a little hesitantly. ‘Ah, there you are. I was about to send for you again. I shall have some more hot water brought in.’

‘Oh, have I kept you waiting? I am so sorry. Only I went to the library and changed your books and I happened to meet someone—’ She was about to blurt out her news, but then checked. ‘It was just a friend…no one important.’ Tilda blushed and turned away, for she had almost embarrassed Arabella by telling her that she had seen Mr Hunter in front of her aunt. ‘Oh, yes—and I spoke to Captain Hernshaw, such a pleasant gentleman! We passed in the street and he went out of his way to be polite to me, Arabella. He asked if you were going to Melinda’s musical evening, and I assured him that we all would be there.’

‘Yes, of course,’ Arabella said. ‘I am looking forward to it.’

‘That is what I was about to say when Tilda came in,’ Lady Tate said, glancing at Arabella. ‘I wondered if you would mind if I didn’t join you this evening, dearest?’

‘Are you feeling unwell, Aunt?’

Lady Tate shook her head. ‘Not really, my dear.’ She placed a hand to the centre of her chest. ‘Just a little discomfort. I suspect I have been eating too much rich food lately. It might be as well if I stayed home and had an early night. I think I shall have a light supper and go to bed with a book—if you do not mind?’

‘Would you like me to send for the doctor?’

‘No, indeed not,’ Lady Tate said. ‘It is nothing very much. I shall be better by the morning.’

‘Shall I stay with you this evening? I do not mind.’

‘Certainly not. I should not hear of it,’ Lady Tate said. ‘You must go, Arabella. You have Tilda to bear you company. I know Melinda would be very disappointed if you did not go.’

‘Yes, she would,’ Arabella agreed. ‘But she would understand if you needed me. However, if you feel that spending the evening in bed will suit you, I shall go as we agreed. If you are no better tomorrow, we shall have the doctor.’

‘It was perhaps those dates that Ralph bought me,’ Lady Tate said glancing at the small box of sweetmeats on the table beside her. ‘Some are stuffed with nuts and others with marzipan. He knows they are a favourite with me and I have eaten too many. I believe I shall tell the maids to throw them out, for I cannot resist them.’ She glanced at Tilda. ‘Unless you would like them? I shall not eat any more, for I cannot stop at one and I really should not have them.’

‘Oh, may I have them?’ Tilda looked pleased. ‘I am very partial to them, Lady Tate—but only if you are sure?’

‘Yes, perfectly sure. Take them up to your room—if they stay here I shall continue to eat them,’ Lady Tate pulled a face. ‘Foolish, I know, but as I said, they have always been a favourite with me.’

‘I found all the books you asked for,’ Tilda said, wanting to show herself deserving of the gift. ‘And I brought a book of poems that I thought you might like, Arabella.’

The conversation turned and they talked of their favourite books, poetry and music until it was time for them all to go up and change for the evening, Tilda carrying the precious box of sweetmeats that she had been given.

At the top of the stairs they parted, each going to her own room. Arabella said that she would pop in to say goodbye before she left and received a kiss on the cheek from her aunt. She was thoughtful as she went to her own room. It was unusual for Lady Tate to complain of feeling unwell—but she must not jump to conclusions. Just because Ralph had given his mother a box of sweetmeats and she was feeling ill after eating some of them, it did not follow that there was anything wrong with them.

Arabella saw Charles Hunter almost as soon as she entered the large, elegantly appointed drawing room. It came as a complete surprise, making her heart jerk with shock and then race on. For a moment she was stunned. What was she to do? She had imagined that she would simply ignore him if they met in passing, but that was obviously going to be impossible, because he was standing with Melinda and her husband. She hesitated, taking a deep breath as she steadied her nerves. Lifting her head proudly, she walked towards her friend, determined to behave as though nothing was wrong.

It looked as though both he and Captain Hernshaw were preparing to leave the small group, but as she approached Charles Hunter turned and saw her. His gaze narrowed, a little nerve flicking at his temple.

‘Belle!’ Melinda cried and darted forward to kiss her cheek. ‘How lovely you look! You know Captain Hernshaw, of course—but I do not think you are acquainted with Mr Hunter?’

A picture of Charles lying naked in his bed, his very masculine body damp with sweat, flashed into her mind, almost slaying her confidence. However, she smiled politely and nodded her head.

‘I believe we have met before, Mr Hunter, though I am not sure where.’

A flicker of appreciation showed in his eyes as he followed her lead. ‘I am sure it must have been at the house of a mutual friend, Lady Arabella. I hope you are quite well?’

‘Oh, yes, very well, thank you.’

Just behind her, Tilda gasped, but prudently said nothing.

Arabella’s heart was racing as she lifted her gaze to meet his eyes. She saw that he was smiling and for some reason her nervousness vanished as if it had never been. She was quite sure that he would neither say nor do anything that might damage her reputation.

‘I am glad to hear that, ma’am,’ Charles said and turned to his companion.

‘We had better take our places, Hernshaw, or we shall be missed.’

‘Yes, I believe you are right,’ Captain Hernshaw replied and smiled at Arabella. ‘Will you excuse us, ladies? No doubt we shall meet again before the evening is out.’ The two gentlemen crossed the room to where others had begun taking their seats at one of the tables set up for cards.

‘Belle, love,’ Melinda said. ‘I am so glad you are here.’

‘You saw me only yesterday,’ Arabella reminded her with a little smile. ‘But I am equally glad to see you, Mel—and you, Harry.’

Sir Harry nodded his head. ‘The same, I’m sure, Belle,’ he said with the easy confidence of old friends. ‘You must come and stay with us in the country this autumn. Mel would love to have you.’

‘Yes, I should,’ Melinda agreed at once. ‘We are here until the end of next week and then we must go home—but I should be so pleased if you would come to us after you leave your aunt.’

‘Perhaps,’ Arabella agreed. ‘Though I may stay in London a little longer than I had first thought. It depends how my aunt is feeling.’

‘She is not with you this evening?’

‘A little indisposed,’ Arabella said. ‘It may be nothing, but I shall see how she goes on.’

Melinda nodded, tucking her arm through Arabella’s. ‘Do you wish to play cards or simply listen to the music?’