‘I most certainly haven’t. I have eyes.’
‘Which clearly do not work if you believe I am juggling both Beaumonts.’ Jake had a way with the ladies and out of the four brothers they were closest in age. Joe couldn’t resist asking his opinion. ‘What do you think of Lady Clarissa?’
His brother shrugged. ‘Very pretty. Very highly thought of in London and considered quite the catch—and knows it, if you want my honest opinion. But I know the type too well to fall for her man-traps. Man-traps, I noted, she was using to great effect with you.’
‘Man-traps?’ The words came out mumbled as Joe enjoyed the first delicious mouthful of eggs. Mrs Patterson could cook, but the chef his sister-in-law Letty had brought with her from Mayfair was a culinary genius. Who knew the humble egg could taste so sublime?
‘Yes, indeed. The subtle, oh-so-casual way she kept touching your arm. The tinkling laugh. The flirtatious way she kept batting her eyelashes at you.’
‘She was?’ Joe had enjoyed the flirting immensely but had no intention of letting on. ‘I thought she had a touch of conjunctivitis.’
‘That would be why you were falling all over yourself to be so attentive. It was purely medical. My mistake.’ Jake snapped the paper back up in front of his face. ‘Yet it still doesn’t explain your fascination with the bookish Beaumont, who, by the way, I think is a much more exciting prospect.’
‘Bella!’ The very idea was preposterous. ‘I am not fascinated by Bella.’
‘Bella... Ah. My mistake.’ Joe could tell his brother was smiling behind his newspaper wall. Jake’s smugness always grated. ‘I shall assume all the lingering glances I witnessed were not lingering at all.’
‘Bella was not glancing at me in a lingering manner. The girl’s nose was constantly in her book.’
Jake threw his head back and laughed. ‘Not her, you idiot. The lingering glances were yours, else how would you know her nose was in her book? You were looking. You kept looking. Even whilst waltzing with the calculated Clarissa, your eyes kept wandering to her beautiful sister.’
A valid point, although his brother was quite mistaken as to why. His eyes had sought Bella out, but only out of concern. Seeing her sat amongst the wallflowers, doing her best to blend into the walls, bothered him. Nothing more. ‘She hurt her ankle a few days ago and I treated her. I was merely checking she was not in pain.’
‘Of course you were. I’ve often thought your concerned physician face mirrors your soppily pining face. And, I suppose, giving the lady a gift was also part of your medical service? I saw you give her that trumpet thing.’
‘It was a stethoscope. Lady Isabella has an interest in science and is volunteering at the foundling home.’
Jake gave up his pretence of reading his paper and dropped it on his lap. ‘The plot thickens. Have the pair of you been making gooey eyes over the patients?’ He sighed wistfully and clutched his heart. ‘How romantic...’
Joe had had quite enough. ‘My relationship with Bella is...well, for want of a better word, professional. A boy has been suffering from quinsy and we have been treating him. Bella has a brilliant mind...’ At his brother’s grin he scowled. ‘But if you must know, I prefer her sister.’ Not strictly true. Joe was coming to like Bella, too. She was clever and resourceful, and he was now convinced she was more shy than dour. And, of course, she had magnificent legs and then there were those tingles.
‘I see. So you find Clarissa attractive and Bella interesting.’
‘Clarissa is also interesting.’ If he was honest, her conversation last night had been a bit dull. But mundane topics like favourite colours or flowers were to be expected when an acquaintance was so new—and Lady Clarissa was not exactly the type to find discourse about stethoscopes or bone saws riveting. The fact Joe had struggled to care about the scintillating parties she attended in London was proof he was working too hard and had simply forgotten how to have fun. As they became more familiar with one another, he was convinced they would find a great deal in common. A great deal. It did not mean anything that he might have tried to escape her company once or twice, or had found his eyes wandering to her sister in the corner. He merely felt uncomfortable in the crowd of admirers he had no desire to be part of.
His foolish brother did not need to know Joe had toyed with the idea of asking Isabella to dance as well. Then remembered she couldn’t dance. She had firmly stated her ankle was still not strong enough. Although she walked with no difficulty, he noticed. Each time he saw her move, she glided effortlessly without any discernible sign of a limp and her hips undulated in a very pleasing fashion with each graceful step. Towards the end of the evening, his feet had been compelled to head in her direction again. The studious Bella might appreciate his scholarly conversation and he was tired of making small talk with those who would deign to tolerate a Warriner. He was curious to know her thoughts on Laennec’s paper, or maybe to discuss ancient Egyptian medicine some more. Even the state of Tom’s tonsils was more appealing than listening to more gossip and nonsense about ribbons. He had been a few feet away when the ethereal Clarissa had appeared out of nowhere and claimed him again for a second dance and then the opportunity was gone. The Beaumont carriage had left shortly afterwards after both girls were ushered out by their father, who had obviously had quite enough provincial society for one evening. ‘I thoroughly enjoyed Clarissa’s company.’
‘And the lovely Bella?’
‘Frankly confuses me. One minute she is as prickly as a hawthorn and the next she is...’ How to explain it? Joe frowned and pondered for a moment. ‘Bella is obviously clever and her commitment to the infirmary is surprising for a woman of her upbringing. Yet she is eminently capable, very well read...yet insular. Sometimes she is downright snippy, although I suspect she is shy. And then—bang—she is animated and engrossed in a topic.’ Like his stethoscope and Laennec’s research. ‘Half the time I don’t know what to make of her.’
Jake had leaned forward and was listening intently. ‘She’s a conundrum.’
‘Yes. I suppose she is.’
‘You’ve always liked a conundrum. They excite that enormous brain of yours.’ He grinned, looking every inch the rake he was. ‘Admit it! You find the enigmatic Bella intriguing.’
‘I find her sister intriguing—and Bella interesting.’
Jake pierced him with a glare, one which reminded Joe his flippant brother was more astute than he liked to let on. ‘You’re lying. I saw you trying to sneak off when she was surrounded by her other suitors. I saw you look at your pocket watch, the wall, her sister...you were bored stiff by Clarissa!’
‘I adore Clarissa. She is an angel. A diamond...’
‘Good grief, you’re at it again! Listen to yourself—diamonds. Angels! Why is it whenever you set your cap at a girl, she becomes this ethereal object to be revered from a distance? A woman of such dazzling perfection she is untouchable and unflawed.’
‘I don’t know what you mean.’ But of course Joe did. It was a familiar pattern and both brothers knew it. Joe built an image of a woman in his mind which rarely bore any resemblance to the real woman at all and it usually concluded when his heart had been broken after she’d shown her true colours.
‘You are so intent on the construct, the fantasy, you fail to see the flaws. It’s our mother all over again. I’m surprised someone with such a mighty brain cannot make the connection. You invent the perfect woman and attribute those characteristics to whoever happens to have caught your eye at the time. Clarissa, for instance, is a practised flirt and a tease, not an angel, big brother.’
She was also a tad self-absorbed, not that Joe would admit such a thing to Jake when he was struggling to come to terms with it himself. ‘I know the difference between fantasy and reality. I’m a good judge of character.’
Jake shook his head and grinned. ‘You are an appalling judge of character and far too soft for your own good.’
An annoyingly accurate assessment which was best ignored. Joe popped a
piece of bacon in his mouth and snatched the newspaper from his brother’s lap and quickly pretended to be engrossed in it. Typically, Jake was having none of it. ‘Do you remember the Widow Talbot?’ How could he forget. The beautiful young widow was the first woman to break Joe’s tender young heart. ‘That vixen was a predator who wanted another notch on her well-used bedpost—but you believed her to be your soulmate despite the fact she was twenty years your senior and had a reputation as a man-eater. And we all warned you of it.’
‘I did not believe she was my soulmate.’ Yes, he had. He’d assumed her interest in him went beyond the physical, when in actuality it had been entirely physical, which with hindsight explained why he hadn’t ever really known her at all. He had constructed a perfect set of characteristics and mapped them on to her, ignoring her true character until it slapped him firmly in the face. His foolish, immature dreams had come crushing down when she had suggested he bring one of his brothers along to her house next time, so they could both take turns with her. Joe was still disgusted with himself for not seeing the truth sooner.
‘And then there was Miss Simkins.’ Clearly Jake was going to dredge up all of Joe’s mistakes. ‘That chit you declared yourself in love with in medical school. Now, there was a conniving woman if ever there was one. A blind fool could see all she saw in you was Letty’s money! How much of your allowance did you waste buying her gifts?’
Nearly all of it, until she’d attached herself to a richer prospect. An heir rather than a spare. With not so much as a backwards glance.
‘A good judge of character! Good grief, Joe, only you continue to believe there was good in our father.’
‘It is possible he turned to drink because he was heartbroken over our mother.’
Jake snatched his newspaper back and thwacked Joe around the head with it. ‘He was a drunkard before she threw herself in the river and you’re rather missing the salient point. To be heartbroken, he would have needed a heart in the first place, when we all know he had none. But why am I bothering? You never listen. Go. Get your heart broken by Clarissa. Waste your time on the fantasy rather than the real thing.’
‘You are wrong, not that it matters. At best all I can expect from her is a mild flirtation at the occasional gathering. Diamonds like Clarissa are not destined for men like us. They want titles and riches and social standing—not the younger sons of infamous earls.’ Just saying it out loud was depressing and quite put Joe off his bacon.
‘If she is the angel you seem to think she is, then your lack of title and riches will make no difference. Court her. Get to know her properly. Tug Lady Clarissa off the pedestal you’ve put her on and take her for a tumble in the hay.’ He wiggled his dark eyebrows suggestively. ‘In my experience, proper young ladies do love to dally with a shameless rogue. Or better yet, dally with her sister. The one you watch so intently. The conundrum. I bet she doesn’t give two figs about trivialities like titles. She’s far too intelligent.’
‘You’re an idiot.’ Joe stood and tossed his napkin on the table, his appetite now spoiled completely.
‘Oh, I’m the idiot?’ Jake called to his retreating back. ‘I’m not the one besotted with a woman who expects adoration as her due and so placid, or scared, I won’t act on my feelings. If you want the girl, go get her. Stop pining after the dream and immerse yourself in the reality. Or are you scared the reality won’t match up to the angelic Clarissa in your big, fat head?’
Chapter Six
‘Dr Warriner is here, your lordship.’
Her mother appeared delighted at this news. Clarissa was triumphant. Bella couldn’t quite put her finger on how she was feeling. Apprehensive, more than a little disappointed and ridiculously glad all at the same time. The warring emotions made her queasy.
‘I think I made quite the impression on him last night. The poor man is now quite besotted. How is my hair?’ After pinching her cheeks several times to give herself the perfect level of bloom and rubbing her lips together firmly, her sister patted her coiffure.
‘You know there is not a strand out of place. You check the mirror often enough.’ Clarissa’s vanity was usually a source of amusement. Bella never understood why she put so much effort into improving her appearance and yet none into improving her mind. However, this time Bella had the urge to check her own hair, too, but didn’t. It would only leave her wide open to Clarissa’s mockery and confirm her father’s ridiculous suspicions she had her sights set on the handsome doctor when he was obviously quite besotted with her sister. With her hair being ruler-straight and resistant to even the most incendiary of curling irons, she always made do with a simple knot for daytime, spicing things up with some ornate plaits should the occasion call for it.
Clarissa’s hair always complied, to the extent she was rarely seen without a few artful ringlets framing her face. The amount of rags the girl went to bed with made her resemble Medusa and couldn’t be comfortable. No doubt Dr Warriner would appreciate the result. After last night, she couldn’t help feeling quite belligerent towards him. A man of science shouldn’t simper over a flirtatious and flighty girl like Clarissa.
He should simper over you!
‘Tell him we are not at home.’ Her father’s tone brooked no argument.
‘But, Papa!’ Clarissa pouted. ‘If he is at the front door, he can doubtless hear us. This silly house is so small and it is just after midday. Nobody who is anybody goes out before midday, especially on a Sunday when they have barely arrived home from church.’
‘I do not care if he can hear us.’ Her father turned to the butler and ushered him away with his hand. ‘We are not at home.’ The servant nodded and closed the door behind him. A few seconds later they heard the muffled sounds of the message being passed on and the front door being shut.
‘Can’t he at least come in for a cup of tea?’
‘No. He cannot. After your lack of propriety last night, Clarissa, I made it my business to make more enquiries about the family, and Dr Warriner in particular, and after careful consideration of all the facts...’ he glared at Bella as well ‘...I have decided we cannot pursue the acquaintance. His presence here today confirms my belief he has designs on Clarissa and I will not allow him to use your good nature, Bella, to wheedle his way into her company. Henceforth, you are both forbidden to speak to any member of the Warriner family.’
Which meant her visits to the infirmary were now also forbidden. ‘But, Papa...’
He held up his hand. ‘It is my job to protect my daughters and I cannot, in all conscience, allow you to continue to fraternise with him. I know you have enjoyed your visits to the foundling home and I have been heartened to see the rapid change in you, Bella, however, such work is not appropriate for the daughter of an earl. It never was and it’s time it ceased. You have been indulged long enough. I’m sure you can find some other worthy causes to support whilst we are here. Causes which are not aligned to Retford’s most notorious family. The Reverend Reeves does many good works at the church and there are several ladies’ groups that knit stockings and such for the poor. You may volunteer at one of those.’
‘But at least allow me to finish my work. My patient...’ not a good choice of word as it smacked of menial work ‘...Tom is expecting me...and I should like to see him discharged from the infirmary fully recovered.’
‘It is out of the question.’
Seeing her upset, Clarissa could not resist one final dig. ‘I suppose it is for the best. Whilst Dr Warriner is handsome, he lacks the social stature befitting an earl’s daughter and I only danced with him to relieve the tedium of being stuck at that dreadful assembly. I shan’t speak to him again, Papa. You have my word. And I’m rather glad you’ve finally agreed we are indulging Bella. I was so bored of accompanying her to town as she always insisted on leaving so early. It was dreadfully unfair on me, yet nobody seemed to care I was being inconvenienced. At least now I can get my beauty sleep without having to play the nursemaid—which is ironic, isn’t it? Seeing as
that is what Bella was to Dr Warriner’s patients.’
* * *
It was obvious her mother and father had had words. Angry ones if her mother’s expression was anything to go by, but her mother was also concerned about Bella, too, who had left the drawing room in tears earlier and had refused to come down to dinner. It was childish and petulant, but Bella didn’t care. Her father had taken away the one thing she cared about. The one thing which made her feel less like a future inmate at Bedlam and more like her old self. Thanks to the infirmary, in the month they had lived in Retford she had not only left the house alone, she had gone several hours without feeling frightened and exposed. She had felt normal. Or on the way to being normal and it was marvellous. Without that real and genuine purpose to her life, all she would be left with was nonsense which bored her and her own crippling anxieties. Neither appealed.
‘He will not back down.’ Her mother sat on the mattress and stroked her hair. ‘I have tried to reason with him, but he won’t be swayed.’
‘But I’ve made such progress.’ The tears fell again, angry, bitter tears of self-pity and frustration at the unfairness of it all. ‘I am so frightened I will go backwards and then...’ She couldn’t bring herself to speak about the treatments which had been threatened by every physician they had consulted. Cruel, invasive, humiliating treatments—all carried out by men while Bella would be powerless to stop them. The one course of water therapy she had allowed had resulted in her being restrained to a chair with leather straps. Petrified. The fear of the cure had melded with the constant fear she had carried with her since the incident, completely powerless, and had succeeded in turning her into more of a wreck within a matter of weeks. It had taken months to get back to where she had been beforehand. To suffer through that, and worse, again was too awful a prospect. Just thinking about it gave Bella palpitations. Her fear must have shown on her face, because her mother became agitated as well.
A Warriner to Tempt Her Page 6
