‘Thank you, yes.’
To the others in the room, it would look as though Harriet was giving him her full attention, her head turned in his direction. Only Benedict was able to see that her gaze was fixed on a point somewhere beyond his right ear and that her cheeks were pink. She was, perhaps, not quite as calm as she wanted him to think. Despite his best intentions, he soon found himself trying to penetrate her outer shell of indifference.
He kept his voice to a murmur. ‘You left without saying goodbye.’
Just like before. The old anger and betrayal swirled through him.
‘I could say the same to you.’
‘It is not the same. I came home and you had gone.’
Harriet shifted a little in her chair. ‘I could not say goodbye to someone who was not there.’
‘You could have written a note.’
‘To what purpose?’
‘To explain. To tell me why.’
Benedict was no longer sure if he meant two months ago or eleven years ago. Or both.
‘It would have changed nothing, and you were no doubt told why. I had no choice.’
‘Why Brierley?’ His voice had dipped, his whisper fierce.
She stared at him now, her violet eyes narrowed, wary. ‘What do you mean?’
He rubbed the back of his neck, aware he was heading into deep waters. Be careful. Stay in the present.
‘Why did you go with Brierley?’
‘I had no choice,’ she repeated.
‘You do not have to answer to him.’
‘Yes, I do. He is the head of the family...my family. He was concerned about my reputation.’
‘A widow is allowed some licence. As long as she is discreet.’
‘That is entirely immaterial if the widow has no interest in having such licence in the first place.’
‘That is not the impression I got. You enjoyed that kiss.’
‘You consider yourself a skilled reader of minds, do you, sir? I—’
Benedict leaned towards Harriet and lowered his voice further. ‘I may not be able to read minds, Harriet, but the body speaks a very different language. One to which I am well attuned.’
Harriet’s chin tilted. Just a fraction, but he knew he had touched on a nerve. Before he could respond, however, Eleanor rose to her feet, smiling apologetically at Matthew and Felicity, saying, ‘Please do forgive me, but I really cannot allow Sir Benedict to monopolise Lady Brierley’s attention like this.’ She then treated Benedict to one of her most direct looks and continued, ‘I know you will forgive me for ousting you from the lady’s side, sir, but Lady Brierley and I have only just become acquainted and I am convinced we must discover more about one another, in order that we may determine whether our next meeting will be one of new friends or mere passing acquaintances.’
Benedict had risen from his chair when Eleanor stood up, and now he had no choice but to exchange seats. As a good hostess, Eleanor had clearly recognised the tension between her two guests, and had acted to intervene. Knowing Eleanor, Benedict could foresee some probing questions about that tension. He diverted his thoughts from that awkward conversation to come.
Before he could join Matthew and Lady Stanton, however, the lady rose from the sofa, saying, ‘I fear Harriet and I shall outstay our welcome if we remain very much longer—we have been here close on an hour already. My apologies for running away before we have had an opportunity to become properly acquainted, Sir Benedict. I should like to remedy that very soon.’
‘As would I, my lady.’ Benedict bowed. Had he imagined that slight edge to Lady Stanton’s words? He watched as she walked across to speak to Harriet.
‘Are you ready to leave now, my dear?’
‘Yes, indeed,’ Harriet said. ‘It was a great pleasure to meet you, Lady Ashby, and you, Mr Damerel.’
‘I am delighted to have made your acquaintance, Lady Brierley,’ Eleanor said. ‘And, please, call me Eleanor. I have heard much about you from Felicity and confess I am intrigued by your charity work. I am very much interested in finding out more about it.’
‘That is splendid, for we have need of all the patronage we can muster.’ Harriet’s voice rang with enthusiasm. ‘And the school for orphans that Felicity champions is most worthy, as well.’
Benedict’s interest was piqued by Harriet’s obvious passion. What charity work?
Don’t ask her. The less you see of her and the less you know about her the better.
‘I am eager to visit both places,’ Eleanor said. Then, her eyes on her husband, she added, ‘As long as you have no objection, my love?’
Benedict bit back a smile. Matthew had told him all about Eleanor’s independence as a wealthy peeress in her own right before she’d met him and they’d fallen in love. She was clearly trying her utmost to adapt to taking his opinion into account when making decisions.
Matthew smiled at his wife. ‘I have no objection, my dear.’
The love that shone in the look they exchanged stirred both envy and yearning in Benedict’s heart, as it had since the moment he had first seen them together. Would he ever find love that special?
More to the point, will you ever find love you can trust?
He must believe he would.
‘Splendid,’ Eleanor said, beaming. ‘We will make arrangements soon, Felicity. In the meantime, Harriet, I shall send you an invitation to our musical evening a fortnight today. I do hope you will be able to attend.’
‘Thank you. That is most kind.’
‘Felicity and Lord Stanton have already accepted, and you will come as well, I hope, Benedict?’ Eleanor continued with an eager smile. ‘It will be our first ever party since our wedding, so I am praying for it to be a success.’
Benedict’s heart sank. It sounded deadly dull to him. He exchanged a look with Matthew, whose glum expression suggested he was no more enamoured at the prospect.
But he was fond of Eleanor, and it behoved him to support Matthew, so... ‘I shall look forward to it,’ he said with a bow.
‘Richard and I are very much looking forward to it, too, Eleanor,’ Lady Stanton said. ‘And you have reminded me of something I meant to ask Harriet. Are you invited to the Cothams’ masquerade ball next week?’
‘I have been invited, but it is out of town and—’
‘But that is why I am asking, you goose,’ Felicity said. ‘You shall come with us in our carriage. You cannot miss such an event.’
‘It does sound like fun,’ Harriet said. ‘Thank you.’
‘Oh, but how delightful,’ Eleanor said, her glowing eyes wide with excitement. ‘Matthew and I are attending, too. And Benedict as well, I hope. I happened to mention to Lady Cotham that you were coming up to town, Benedict, and she included you on our invitation. I have plenty of garments you can choose from for your costume—I had so many ideas, I hardly knew which ones to pick for Matthew and me. Do say you’ll come.’
Benedict grinned at her. ‘You try to stop me.’
‘Indeed,’ Matthew interjected. ‘Give this man a chance to dress in some outlandish costume and he is as happy as a sailor in a—’
‘Matthew...’
They all laughed at Eleanor’s warning and Lady Stanton tucked her arm through Harriet’s, saying, ‘Come, my dear, it is time we left.’
Unanswered questions swarmed through Benedict’s head. This might be as good a chance as any to get some answers.
‘I must also be on my way,’ he said. ‘Were you ladies accompanied by your maids?’ He had seen no one waiting in the hall. ‘Might I offer to escort you home?’ He included Lady Stanton in his glance.
A flush washed Harriet’s cheeks and a spark of irritation lit her eyes but he knew she could hardly refuse when he was so obviously a close friend of their host and hostess.
> Chapter Nine
Once they were outside in Cavendish Square, Lady Stanton turned to Harriet and smiled. ‘I shall see you very soon, my dear,’ she said, and embraced her. She then faced Benedict. ‘Thank you for your offer, sir.’
Once again, he felt the force of her clear-eyed appraisal, reminding him of the look she had given him when they were first introduced. Why did she appear wary of him? Had Harriet confided something of their past to her friend?
‘My home is across the square,’ Lady Stanton continued, ‘and I have no need of company for that short distance. I venture to hope, however, that you will escort Lady Brierley to her home. She has developed a sad habit of walking around town unaccompanied now that her maid is indisposed.’
‘Most shocking behaviour,’ Benedict agreed gravely, wondering why, if she was chary of him, she would encourage him to escort Harriet. ‘I shall be sure to see her safely home.’
It was another question to add to the list for Harriet to answer.
‘It was only this once, Felicity, as you well know,’ Harriet said. ‘My footman accompanied me to Lady Stanton’s house earlier,’ she continued, in explanation to Benedict, ‘but he had errands to run. And I am not a green girl who needs chaperoning everywhere. It is the middle of the afternoon, for goodness’ sake. What possible harm could befall me?’
Benedict bowed. ‘I shall escort you nevertheless. It was a pleasure to meet you, Lady Stanton.’
She nodded, unsmiling. ‘Likewise, sir.’
Before they parted company, however, a shrill voice accosted them.
‘My dear, dear Lady Stanton, how do you do? And, if I am not mistaken, it is Sir Benedict Poole, is it not? And...Lady Brierley.’
The fashionably dressed matron’s voice noticeably cooled as she spoke Harriet’s name. Benedict saw Lady Stanton bristle and he warmed to her. She was clearly a loyal friend.
‘Good afternoon, Lady Marstone,’ she said with the slightest of bows, and went to pass by the woman and her younger companion, a slim brunette with a pretty face somewhat spoiled by a petulant expression.
Lady Marstone added hurriedly, ‘And of course you know my daughter, Bridget?’
Lady Stanton nodded at the girl. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘How do you do, Miss Marstone? Now, please do excuse me, but I am expected home.’
She smiled at the group and walked on, crossing the corner of the square, leaving Benedict and Harriet with Lady Marstone and her daughter, neither of whom Benedict could recall having met before.
The lady was eyeing him with an eager light in her eyes.
He bowed. ‘My apologies, Lady Marstone, but have we met?’
‘Oh, no, no, Sir Benedict, we have never been formally introduced, but I recognise you. Why, the whole district is agog with your return. We live not three miles from Tenterfield Court, so we are practically neighbours. So fortuitous, our bumping into you in the street just now—I hope you will forgive me for dispensing with the formalities?
‘I recognised you the instant I saw you—so like Sir Malcolm...although no doubt of more...less...well, yes...’ She faltered, but only momentarily, before charging ahead once again. ‘And of course I am already acquainted with dear Lady Stanton and with Lady Brierley so there can be no real impropriety, can there?’
‘Quite so.’
‘As we are such close neighbours, you will of course attend our ball next month? I shall be sure to send you an invitation.’
‘Thank you. I shall consult my diary as soon as I receive it.’
‘Oh! Oh, yes of course. But...being such close neighbours, surely you must... Well, I shall leave it to you, sir, but dear Bridget was only saying yesterday how wonderful it will be to stand up with a gentleman of your considerable standing.’
Benedict managed to prevent himself frowning as Miss Marstone simpered at him. How had this conversation bounced from a chance meeting to the expectation he would dance with this woman’s daughter? He suspected his considerable standing owed more to his wealth than to anything else about him. Was this what he must expect from society? The pitfalls in business were as nothing beside the perils of negotiating the hazards of the ton. He was encouraged, however, that his wealth appeared to override any scruples over Malcolm’s past—at least, as far as Lady Marstone was concerned. Although it remained to be seen whether this particular lady was quite as finicky as others in the ton might prove to be.
Without volition, he glanced at Harriet, standing to one side. Her expression was neutral but his look resulted in a slight elevation of her brows. He suspected she was hiding a smile.
She addressed Miss Marstone. ‘I do not doubt that Sir Benedict will prove a most accomplished dancer, Miss Marstone. I collect this is your second—’
‘Thank you, Lady Brierley.’ Lady Marstone placed herself firmly between Harriet and her daughter. She then turned her steely gaze back to Benedict. ‘We have taken enough of your time, sir. I bid you good day. Come, Bridget.’
Benedict stared after them. ‘She was intolerably rude to you. Why did you not give her a set-down?’
Harriet said nothing as she walked across the Square in the direction of Holles Street.
‘Harriet?’
Benedict hurried to catch her up and then kept pace with her. How did she remain so composed? He could interpret nothing of what was going through her head from her expression or her demeanour.
‘Lady Marstone is the person who informed my stepson that I was at Tenterfield,’ she said eventually. ‘She clearly believes that I am an unsuitable acquaintance for her daughter. And, if I am honest, I cannot blame her for that. She is being protective. It is what any mother would do.’
Benedict digested the implications of this.
‘Is she likely to gossip about it?’
‘I hope not. Edward threatened to prevent Bridget gaining approval for Almack’s this Season—he is a friend of Lord Castlereagh.’ She peeped sideways at him and he saw her lips twitch. ‘You do not understand the gravity of such a threat, it is clear. Lady Castlereagh is one of the patronesses of Almack’s—the group of ladies who preside over who is and who is not deemed acceptable to attend the assembly on a Wednesday evening during the Season. To have her name added to the approved list is the pinnacle of every young girl’s ambition. To be denied that privilege would be enough to cast that same young miss into the depths of despair. The threat should be sufficient to ensure Lady Marstone’s discretion.’
She then added, ‘Almack’s is also popularly known as the marriage mart. You will do well to cultivate one of the patronesses—it will be the perfect place to gain introductions to suitable young ladies on the lookout for a husband.’
There was nary a quiver of emotion in her voice—maybe she had been telling the truth, back at Tenterfield Court; maybe it was remembering her father, and not Benedict’s talk of finding a bride, that had so upset her. He had often wondered about that evening.
‘And if I am deemed unsuitable? You will recall I have been in trade all my adult life.’
‘Your new status and wealth might overcome that particular taint. If not, however, I am acquainted with a lady who undertakes to perform discreet introductions between suitable parties. I shall be happy to introduce you to her if you wish.’
‘I should prefer to rely on my own instincts, thank you.’
And his instincts were, at that very moment, clamouring to take Harriet in his arms, despite his bitterness, despite his distrust, despite the deafening clamour of his common sense. The idea that had surfaced at Tenterfield re-emerged. She was a widow. They could be discreet. If he bedded her, he might rid himself once and for all of this nagging feeling of unfinished business. And then, when he took a wife, surely these muddled feelings she had awoken within him would disappear?
‘Although,’ he added, ‘if I should need some help i
n the matter, I seem to recall you promising to help me with my search for a spouse.’
‘I fear my time is already fully occupied in assisting the needy,’ she replied.
Benedict stifled his laugh. Cleverly done. Needy, eh? Yes, he was needy, but not in the way Harriet had meant. Or—he sneaked a look at her serene profile—was her double entendre deliberate?
They walked side by side for several minutes in silence. As they reached Oxford Street and waited for a break in the traffic to cross the road, Benedict offered his arm. After a second’s hesitation, Harriet laid her gloved hand on his sleeve. Something seemed to settle deep inside him at her touch. It felt right.
‘I am curious about your friend, Lady Stanton,’ he said, after they crossed and continued on their way towards Hanover Square. ‘She seemed almost wary of me. I cannot think why as I have never met her before.’
Harriet remained silent for so long, Benedict feared she was not going to answer him.
‘It is not you, personally,’ she said eventually, ‘but your name that unsettles her. It was on Felicity’s behalf I went to Tenterfield Court, to discover the truth about a matter concerning her sister. Felicity has no cause to love the Poole name.’
The Poole name... How many others would be of the same opinion? How many would judge him by the actions of Sir Malcolm?
‘That is yet another reminder that I should lose no time in restoring good opinion of my family name,’ he said.
‘So you said before. Well, you might take heart from Lady Marstone. She showed no sign of disapproval but, on the other hand, she does have a daughter to marry off. A respectable marriage would go a long way to overcoming past scandals, and I am sure Bridget’s dowry would add nicely to your wealth.’
‘I have no need of more money.’ Benedict shuddered inwardly at the thought of Lady Marstone as a mother-in-law.
He sensed Harriet’s swift sideways glance, but he kept his gaze fixed ahead.
‘Everyone always wants more money,’ she said, ‘or why would wealthy men baulk at providing for...? Besides, I was talking about land. The Marstone estate is not far from Tenterfield and, from what I have heard, it is not all entailed, so Bridget’s portion would be likely to include some of the unentailed land. She only has the one brother. That must be an enticing thought to a bachelor considering marriage.’
Saved by Scandal's Heir Page 8
