Regency High Society Vol 1: A Hasty Betrothal / A Scandalous Marriage / The Count's Charade / The Rake and the Rebel

‘Naturally.’ Ridgeway was indignant. ‘He said he’d never seen him before but thought he must have come from the House. ‘'Tall, thin and dark” was all he could say.’

‘Young or old?’ asked Sandford impatiently.

‘Well, he said ‘'old” but to a child of his age, that could be anyone from twenty upwards,’ Ridgeway pointed out. ‘Sorry, old chap, back to square one, almost.’

‘Not quite,’ said Sandford, frowning. ‘We know how it happened, but as to why? Miss Cordell has not yet met your mother, so where does she fit into the conundrum?’

‘Oh, I figured that one out,’ said Ridgeway. ‘If the little varmints have any loyalty at all it’s to ‘'Lady ‘Genie''. Billy actually thought he was doing it on Ma’s behalf and this chap, whoever he is, must have known that!’ He looked squarely at Sandford. ‘You want me to lay them off—send them back to London?’

Sandford flushed. ‘I hope you know me better than that, Charles,’ he said shortly, getting ready to mount his horse. ‘Sounds as if you’ve put the fear of Lucifer into the brats already. The real villain has still to be discovered!’

He wheeled his horse out of the Dower House stableyard and, raising his crop in salute, he galloped back down the lane to Beldale.

Upon his entry into the hall he encountered Harriet sitting on a chair, reading. To his surprise she jumped up and came forward to meet him.

‘Lord Sandford,’ she said, clearly in some agitation. ‘Could I speak with you, if you please?’

Puzzled, he led her into the salon and, closing the door behind them, he turned to face her.

‘How may I help you?’ he asked, feeling his heart contract at the sight of her downcast face. He steeled himself

for whatever battle of wits he was sure must be about to follow.

‘I—I—want to apologise, my lord,’ she said in a small voice. ‘I fear I have misjudged you. I …’

Discomfited, he put up his hand to stop her.

‘Please, Miss Cordell, no more!’ he protested. ‘It is I who am at fault if I gave you the impression that I disbelieved your story. Believe me, it was never my intention …’

‘But you have found the culprit?’ she interrupted eagerly. ‘You have solved the mystery?’

‘Alas! Not entirely,’ admitted Sandford, vexed at having to disappoint her. ‘Sit down please, Miss Cordell. Let me tell you what I have ascertained.’

Briefly, he related his own investigations and his cousin’s discoveries, deeply conscious of Harriet’s eyes on his own the whole time he was speaking and sick at heart that he was unable to bring a smile to her face.

‘But these boys,’ she said, anxiously gripping her hands together. ‘Surely they are in some danger now? The man must be aware that they could expose him. Who can he be and what do you suppose it all means?’

Sandford shook his head and laid his hand on hers, to still the trembling.

‘I confess I am at a stand,’ he said reluctantly. ‘Unless you know of anyone who would wish you harm? These Middletons … ?’

Harriet shook her head. ‘They could not have known of my whereabouts last week,’ she said. ‘Even Mama did not, until the—engagement—notice was in the paper.’

Sandford regarded her silently for a moment then, rising purposefully to his feet, he became his normal efficient self again. ‘Then we must assume that the whole thing was some unfortunate mistake,’ he said decisively. ‘For the present, however, I must insist that you refrain from wandering off on your own again and that you always tell one of the household where you may be found …’

He stopped, at her look of astonishment.

‘Must you persist in treating me like a child?’ she asked in disgust. ‘Perhaps you could look out some leading-strings for me?’

He sighed, all at once too weary to engage in the inevitable bout of verbal fisticuffs he had come to expect from their interchanges.

‘My concern is merely to ensure your safety until your grandfather arrives to remove you,’ he said stiffly. ‘I would be obliged if you would comply with my request during the remainder of your stay here. I have wasted far too much time on this wild-goose chase already.’

Wrenching open the door, he left the room, conscious of an overwhelming desire to give Harriet a good shaking or, perhaps, just hold her tightly in his arms. Cursing under his breath, he crossed the hall and climbed the stairs to his chamber, where he curtly dismissed Kimble and attended to his own toilette, much to his valet’s chagrin.

Harriet, still angry, paced the floor of the salon for some minutes after the viscount had gone, mulling over both his revelations and his subsequent chastisement. Aware that she had little choice but to heed his instructions, she contemplated the possibility of dashing down to the village the following morning in order to catch the Osbornes before they left for Hampshire. Rejecting this idea as impractical and, ruefully sensible of the fact that Martha would simply return her to Beldale, she wondered once more whether she could confess her situation to Judith Hurst but, oddly, the closer her friendship with Judith grew, the less that idea appealed to her. Reluctant to expose herself to her friend’s possible disapprobation, she realised that she had no alternative but to sit tight until her grandfather arrived, however long that might be. She resigned herself to remaining inside the four walls of Beldale House for the foreseeable future, since there was absolutely no way she was going to stroll about the grounds with a footman at her heels and, as for riding with Sandford, she would see him damned first!

Once more an uneasy truce attended their meetings, which Sandford confined to the barest minimum, unwittingly causing his mother deep misgivings, for she could sense his unhappiness and concluded that he was regretting his decision to return to Beldale permanently.

The earl continued to make good progress and no longer seemed to have a compulsion to dwell on his accident. Harriet spent a good deal of her time with him, playing chess and piquet and reading scurrilous articles from the newspapers to him, which latter usually developed into heated debates between the two of them, culminating in paroxysms of laughter.

Sandford entered his father’s room on one such occasion and, although the sight brought a smile to his lips, his eyes remained bleak and he indicated to Chegwin that he would return later.

Lord William, however, noticed his son’s retreat and speculated upon the cause of it, but was reluctant to broach such a delicate subject with Sandford. Instead, he elected to quiz Harriet during one of their games of Hazard.

‘I shall miss you when you are gone, my dear,’ he said gently. ‘I’m sure you must know how attached I have grown to you—we all have. Her ladyship calls you her breath of fresh air!’

‘Sandford would probably say ‘'whirlwind'',’ she said, smiling ruefully as she took her turn at the dice. ‘He seems to take such exception to everything I do.’

‘You dislike him?’ he shot at her, regarding her intently.

Startled, she raised her green eyes to his faded grey ones and sighed. ‘There are times when I really do, I’m afraid,’ she admitted. ‘He can sometimes be so overbearing, you know, and then, just when I could happily murder him—he does something so—so—unexpected.’

Beldale gave a snort of laughter. ‘Well, you are honest, I’ll give you that—not that I’d expect anything less of you, of course,’ he said, looking at her fondly. ‘Care to tell me about it?’

‘Well, it seems that no matter how hard I try to conduct myself with the dignity and propriety he expects of me,’ said Harriet with a grin, ‘I find myself involved in some sort of scrape. Papa always used to say it was lucky I wasn’t a cat—although I do have the eyes for one—for I must easily have lost all nine lives before now!’

‘Curiosity is regarded by some philosophers as a prime virtue,’ observed his lordship thoughtfully. ‘How else could we acquire knowledge? My throw, I believe.’

Harriet passed him the dice-box and studied her score-sheet. ‘That makes about fifty thousand guineas I owe you, my lord,’ she laughingly informed him. ‘I will have to ask for time to pay, or shall you have me cast into Bridewell?’

‘Bridewell? Hmm—that might just be the answer.’ The earl answered absentmindedly, as he shook the box.

Harriet looked up puzzled. His lordship seemed abstracted.

‘Oh, I have tired you out,’ she exclaimed, jumping up in concern and beckoned to Chegwin to clear away the bed-table.

Lord William smiled at her agitation and took her hand in his. ‘Perhaps I shall take a nap, my dear,’ he said. ‘It’s Judith’s assembly this evening, is it not? Be sure to come and see me before you leave.’

Harriet, bending to kiss him on the forehead, promised that she would.

As soon as the valet had closed the door on her departure, Beldale hauled himself up on his pillows and issued several succinct orders and a request for Lady Caroline’s immediate attendance.

That evening, as she stood submitting herself to Rose’s final administrations, Harriet felt a pang of regret that she would shortly be losing the cheerful young maid and wondered if her grandfather would allow her to offer the girl a position in his household.

‘Don’t frown so, miss,’ admonished Rose, as she buttoned her mistress’s glove. ‘You’ll get lines on your forehead soon enough, believe me! There, now—a real picture you look!’

Harriet studied her reflection in the pier-glass. Her soft, copper-gold hair had adapted happily to its new shape, its curling tendrils framing her elfin face, whilst her deep green eyes mirrored the colour in the shot silk of the over-tunic. The neckline of the white satin underslip was low but decorous, without ruffle or frill, accentuating the creamy curves of her bosom. The tunic, which was sleeveless, fastened around the waist with a narrow sash decorated in a gold-threaded Greek-key design and Rose, still bemoaning her mistress’s lack of jewellery, had fashioned a similar ribbon to weave through her curls.