Regency High Society Vol 1: A Hasty Betrothal / A Scandalous Marriage / The Count's Charade / The Rake and the Rebel. Mary Brendan. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Mary Brendan
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия:
Жанр произведения: Историческая литература
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781408934272
Скачать книгу
of all people! You know that most of the women were wives of the soldiers and spent their time cooking and foraging for their menfolk. The few others I saw were usually local girls and very choosy, so I’m told!’

      Sandford raised his brows, stifling his laughter. ‘You shouldn’t have been told any such thing. I’m surprised your mother allowed such a conversation.’

      ‘Oh, don’t be so stuffy! When we were surrounded by death and injury! Some of the men behaved appallingly, it’s true, but hadn’t they good reason, at times? Papa never condoned their behaviour when they went to extremes, but he did understand the cause. Most of them will never come home,’ she finished sadly.

      ‘Nevertheless,’ counselled the viscount, after a pause, ‘none of this is deemed to be a fitting subject for polite conversation and I must recommend that you endeavour to steer clear of it, if at all possible.’

      He had not enjoyed listening to Lady Butler’s attempts at giving Harriet one of her infamous set-downs, especially as the girl had won the field on this occasion. From past experience he knew that the older woman would try to find new ways of discomfiting her because there were few things she enjoyed more. Judith’s party would provide Lady Butler with an excellent opportunity, he reasoned, and was determined to do his best to safeguard Harriet against public calumny.

      ‘As you wish, my lord,’ said Harriet in a small voice, her shoulders drooping. What a pompous prig the hero had turned out to be, she thought in dismay, and wondered if, after all, some of the tales of his exploits had been embellished.

      They rode in silence once more, each absorbed in private reflections and, upon entering the house, Sandford excused himself from Harriet, saying that he would go straight up to his father before changing.

      Harriet went to her own room where Rose was waiting to help her undress. The girl had laid out one of the new dresses, which had been delivered during her mistress’s absence, and Harriet was delighted with the pretty, soft green muslin, its short puffed sleeves just right for the warm afternoon. Rose tied the matching sash high above her young mistress’s waist, as was the prevailing fashion, and adjusted the tiny frill that edged the low neckline.

      ‘I hear tell that some of the young ladies do damp their dresses to make them cling to their bodies!’ she marvelled, as she knelt to tie the strings on Harriet’s slippers. ‘And they don’t always wear a petticoat either!’

      ‘I don’t think I should care for such a fashion.’ Harriet assured her. ‘This dress is very pretty as it is, don’t you think? Is there an evening gown amongst the others? Madame said that it would be ready in time for Mrs Hurst’s party.’

      Rose showed her the rest of the deliveries, which did, indeed, include the gown for Judith’s party. This was a simple but elegant tunic in a sea-green shot silk, which was to be worn over a white satin slip. Harriet’s eyes shone with delight when she saw it, immediately taken with its clean-cut shaping, for she was not a girl who cared for too many frills and flounces in her clothes.

      ‘There’s slippers to match too, miss,’ Rose indicated. ‘ ‘Tis a pity that you had to leave your jewel-case behind, for a necklace would make all the difference.’

      Harriet did not reply. She was beginning to feel somewhat concerned about her increasing indebtedness to her hosts and wondered when she would be in a position to repay them. She hoped that her grandfather would soon be in touch with instructions for her to be sent to him at once as she was still most uncomfortable about the role she had agreed to undertake. A lot of good people were being deceived, she reflected, and was sorry that Judith and her children should be amongst these for she felt that she could easily become very fond of them. Even Sandford’s company was surprisingly bearable when he refrained from telling her what she could or could not do, she mused, and she was smiling at the memory of the cheerful raillery they had exchanged during their morning ride when there came a tap at the door.

      ‘His lordship wishes to speak to Miss Cordell if she could spare him a moment.’

      Harriet heard March deliver his message and rose at once to her feet. Now what had she done? she wondered, casting about in her mind for possible aberrations as she hurried downstairs to find the viscount waiting in the small salon.

      ‘How very prompt,’ he said, surprising her by turning with a smile as she entered. ‘Father has expressed a desire to meet you—he knows your story, of course, and he also knew your grandparents in his youth. Do you feel up to it?’ He looked at her anxiously.

      ‘But, of course.’ Harriet’s eyes sparkled. ‘I’d love to meet Lord William. Are you sure he is well enough for a visitor?’

      ‘He maintains that he is well enough to look at a pretty face,’ Sandford said cheerfully, as they made their way upstairs. ‘He is keen to see if Mother’s description of your likeness to your grandmother is justified.’

      At Sandford’s gentle scratch, Chegwin opened the door of the Earl’s chamber and placed his finger against his lips to urge their silence.

      ‘His lordship has fallen asleep again, sir,’ he whispered, as he ushered them to his master’s bedside. ‘But he left instructions that you were to remain until he awakes—he drowses off on account of the medicine, but seems anxious to speak with you, my lord.’

      His eyes were troubled as they fixed upon the earl’s sleeping form. Harriet, too, stared concernedly at the pale and lined features of the white-haired old man in the bed.

      Sandford led her to a chair by the bedside and seated himself opposite. Together they watched the shallow but steady rise and fall of the bedcovers at the earl’s chest. Harriet felt unaccountable tears pricking her eyelids as she studied the viscount’s father. How alike they are, she thought in a flash; the same aristocratic bone structure, straight nose, high cheekbones, firm chin—even in repose. Were his eyes that same clear grey? she wondered, and almost jumped out of her skin when, as if in answer to her question, Beldale’s eyes opened and were staring at her intently.

      ‘Don’t weep, girl, I’m not gone yet,’ came a gruff voice and a hand crept out of the covers to take hers. She held it firmly between both her own and smiled, a gentle flush staining her cheeks.

      ‘And very pleased I am to hear it, sir,’ she replied softly. ‘Did we disturb you?’

      ‘No, my dear, I was waiting for you, but this infernal laudanum keeps dragging me off to sleep—do better without it.’ He glared balefully at his manservant, who regarded him fondly in return.

      ‘Bring a light, man. I want to see the girl properly!’

      Although it was daylight the heavy curtains were drawn to keep out the sunshine, making the room quite dark. Chegwin lifted a branch from the dresser and held it aloft so that Harriet’s face was bathed in its pool of candlelight. The old man contemplated her steadily for several minutes, his eyes faded but indubitably grey, and she felt no embarrassment at his scrutiny.

      Sandford grinned, feeling a surge of respect at such composure. ‘Well, sir? And do you approve?’

      Beldale gently squeezed Harriet’s hand. ‘Very fetching, my boy,’ he said. ‘Your mama was right—image of her grandmother—glad you found her, Sandford—made her ladyship very happy.’ His voice faded, then his eyes flashed wide open once more. ‘Keep your guard up, Robert—just remembered—something—happened …’ His head drooped back on to the pillows and Sandford started up in alarm, but Chegwin put his hand on the viscount’s arm and steadied him.

      ‘He’s all right, sir,’ he said. ‘Keeps dropping off like that. Needs the stuff for the pain, you see. Leave him to me, if you please, sir—and ma’am.’

      He bowed towards Harriet who, seeing Sandford’s agitation, had immediately risen from her own chair but, at the sight of the tears in his eyes, had swiftly bent to tidy the covers over Beldale’s recumbent form.

      ‘I know you’ll take good care of him, Chegwin.’ Sand-ford’s voice held a tremor but, straightening his shoulders, he held