A Hint of Scandal

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A Hint of Scandal Page 4

by Rhonda Woodward


  But the main reason Bella cared little for a London Season was because of Robert Fortiscue. He was a gentleman farmer who owned several hundred acres and a lovely Tudor manor.

  Robert Fortiscue was considered a keen goer when it came to the hunt, and was also the handsomest man in the county. He was from a very good family, his mother being a relation of Robert Stewart, the current Viscount Castlereagh.

  And he was smitten with one Miss Arabella Tichley.

  If it had not been for Papa’s unexplainable dislike of Robert, Bella now mused, they would have been married last fall.

  But Bella felt that a marriage to Robert Fortiscue would be ideal, for Oakdale was close by, and she did not want to be far from Papa and Tommy. So, while Triss planned her come-out in London, Bella planned the changes she would make at Oakdale, Robert’s home, hopefully soon to be hers as well.

  Triss brought Bella back to the present with yet another demand to see the mystery man.

  “All right then,” Bella started, throwing up her hands. “I know you shall give us no peace until you have stared your fill at him.”

  To Bella’s surprise, Aunt Elizabeth rose also.

  At Bella’s expression, the older lady said somewhat defensively, “I might as well have a look at the poor man, too.”

  The three of them crowded into Bella’s bedchamber, and were silent for some moments as they looked down at the invalid’s still features.

  “Oh, my, he’s quite a large man, isn’t he?” commented Aunt Elizabeth.

  “Good Lord! Look at those lashes; must be half an inch long. What a waste on a man,” Beatrice lamented.

  “Indeed,” Bella agreed.

  Hearing her father call her name, Bella led Aunt Elizabeth and Triss back to the sitting room.

  “Your uncle and I were just discussing what to do about our unexpected guest,” Bella’s father informed them.

  “Good,” Aunt Elizabeth said as the ladies reseated themselves in the comfortably worn chairs. “Everything must be done to discover his identity. I’m sure his family is already frantically searching for him.”

  “Agreed,” stated Uncle David. “I shall send men to the neighboring villages to make inquiries.”

  Bella was only half listening to what the others were saying. She was preoccupied with worry over her patient.

  Seeing her niece’s tired features, Aunt Elizabeth took the situation in hand. “I can see that the other carriage has arrived,” she stated after looking out the front window. “We shall have the servants bring the hampers in, and see what Cook has prepared for us.”

  Bella met her aunt’s kind gaze with gratitude.

  At that moment Tommy came bounding into the house, disheveled and muddy.

  “Oh, what next?” Bella said, fed up at the sight of Tommy tracking mud onto her freshly scrubbed floors.

  “Where have you been, young man?” Papa had grabbed Tommy before he could go any farther.

  “I have been seeing to the man’s horse,” Tommy told them. “I took him over to the stables at the Park. He’s a prime piece of blood. The man must be as rich as a lord.”

  This last comment jogged Bella’s memory, causing her to jump to her feet quickly. “Oh, I am tired. I forgot the watch,” she said, and swiftly left the room, causing the others to look after her in confusion.

  Bella went back up to the room. Going to the foot of the bed, she lifted the beautiful, heavy woolen coat from the chest. Fumbling a moment, she pulled the watch from the pocket and returned to the sitting room.

  Handing the gold timepiece to her aunt, Bella said, “There is a crest on his watch, Aunt Elizabeth. Maybe you can recognize it.”

  Her aunt, with the rest them looking on curiously, took the watch and walked over to the window. She studied it closely for a few moments, before shaking her head and handing the object back to Bella.

  “I’ve rusticated too long to recognize a crest by sight. Certainly, though, this watch belongs to a nobleman.”

  “Oh, famous!” Beatrice said, “I do hope he lives. Your patient is either a nobleman or he stole that watch from one.”

  “And you, goose, think one scenario is as good as the other,” Bella said.

  “Absolutely,” Beatrice replied shamelessly.

  Chapter Four

  During the days that followed, the normal routine of Bella’s well-ordered life ceased. The stranger’s care took all of her time. After only a day or so Bella began to find it curious that his presence, though he was barely conscious most of the time, filled the house.

  Bella pondered how best to care for the man, knowing she could not take on such a responsibility alone. But because of her father’s rather thrifty ways, he had never seen the need to have any live-in servants. So Bella approached Mrs. Ash about staying at the manor to help take care of the stranger. The good woman had shaken her head and pursed her lips. “I am sorry, Miss Bella, but Mr. Ash don’t like me gone from home at night. But I will come every day as long as you need me,” she offered.

  Mrs. Ash did come daily, partly to help look after the wounded man and give Bella a chance to rest, and partly to make tea for all the unexpected guests that suddenly started to appear on their doorstep.

  To Bella’s annoyance, the Tichleys were suddenly the most popular family in the village.

  Tommy and Papa speculated endlessly on the identity of the gentleman. There was much discussion at supper on how he came to be in Mabry Green and, most important, how he had gotten himself shot.

  The local constable came knocking on the front door bright and early the next morning. Bella had politely shown the constable to her room, where he took a good, long look at the prone man. He harrumphed to himself and asked a few questions before he took himself off, muttering about how much bother this situation would be causing him.

  After the constable, the vicar and his wife knocked on the front door. They gave the excuse that it had been much too long since they had called. Bella was too polite to point out that the good vicar and his wife had not called upon the Tichley household since Mama had died years ago.

  Bella served them tea in the sitting room, and no matter how they hinted at their desire to look at the man, Bella politely kept them at bay.

  Keeping a smile fixed to her lips, Bella showed them to the door when they had finally, yet reluctantly, taken their leave. Upon closing the door, Bella paused to examine the new emotions she was experiencing. To her surprise she found that she felt quite protective of her patient and did not want the entire village to come gawk at him as if he were a five-legged calf.

  Some of the local ladies even went so far as to bring savory dishes to the house, hoping their gifts would gain them entrance into Bella’s room to have a look at the mystery man. Though Papa and Tommy were no end pleased with the offerings, Bella was steadfast in her polite but firm refusal to allow anyone admittance.

  Periodically, to Bella’s immense relief, the patient would occasionally awaken. When he did he seemed unaware of his surroundings, but Bella was able to get him to drink a little broth. He then would fall back into what Bella hoped was a healing sleep.

  The hours would pass, and Bella found she was catching up on her darning and sewing as she kept vigil next to the bed. She sometimes stopped to sponge the man’s chest and lean, angular face with cool water, hoping to prevent fever from taking hold of him. He looked so helpless and vulnerable with his long dark lashes lying so boyishly against his cheeks. She prayed constantly that he would recover quickly.

  Occasionally she was forced to leave his side, as was the case on the third day. Because the afternoon promised to be unexpectedly fine, she and Mrs. Ash decided to wash all the bedclothes and hang them out on a line in the side garden that faced south. After a little while, as they set about their chores in companionable silence, Bella found it good to be outside on such a clear, crisp day. She was not one to like staying indoors for too long.

  The two women had almost finished the arduous task when Bella heard
a noise and turned to see her uncle riding up the path on his dappled gray mare. Straightening up from the laundry basket, Bella waved to him before wiping her chore-reddened hands on her apron.

  After dismounting, Uncle David tethered his mount to a snarled old oak tree and stepped through the garden gate to greet his niece.

  “Any news?” she questioned as he drew near. They both knew to what she was referring.

  Pressing his lips together, the earl shook his head. “Nothing from Mabry Green or Hareton. I have just instructed my men to go farther afield. It’s dammed odd, Bella; it’s as if the bloke dropped here from the moon.”

  Bella smiled at her uncle’s imaginative description as she helped Mrs. Ash peg a pillow cover to the line.

  “I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before we find out who he is, Uncle. Surely somebody is looking for him.”

  “Let me finish the wash, Miss Bella. You and Lord Penninghurst go in and have a spot of tea,” Mrs. Ash offered, making shooing motions toward the house.

  Bella smiled gratefully to the older woman and led her uncle to the side door, through the kitchen, and into the sitting room.

  “How is our mysterious stranger?” the earl asked as he followed her into the house.

  “He is about the same. I am grateful he is not worse,” Bella replied, her concern for the man evident in her dark blue eyes.

  “Yes, indeed,” her uncle agreed. “And where might my brother be today?” Uncle David questioned as he settled himself comfortably in the chair by the window.

  “Papa rose very early today,” she began as she gathered the tea things from the large mahogany sideboard by the dining table, “and rode all the way to Horely. He heard a rumor that someone dug up a Roman coin in their garden.”

  “That’s enough to make my brother’s scholarly heart sing,” the earl observed with a chuckle. “Though from everything I’ve ever read, Horely would be too far south for any Roman archeology.”

  “One would think so, but Papa believes the Romans occupied a larger portion of England than previously believed. You know he loves nothing more than getting his papers on the subject printed in those academic publications he is always reading. His research keeps him happy and busy,” Bella explained.

  “Yes, yes,” her uncle said. “And he is becoming quite respected in those circles.”

  Bella excused herself to go prepare the tea, leaving her uncle to peruse a sporting magazine for a few moments.

  She returned shortly with a tray bearing tea and biscuits. After seating herself across from her uncle, Bella poured him a cup of steaming tea, thinking how nice it was to relax for a few moments.

  “Where is that young scoundrel Tommy?” Lord Penninghurst asked, after accepting a cup of tea and a warm biscuit from his niece.

  “Tending our patient’s horse at your stables, Uncle,” Bella responded after taking a sip of the fragrant brew. “He is constantly with that brute of an animal. He thinks the stables at Penninghurst Park are more worthy of such a horse. I’m sure he’d sleep in the stable if he thought you would permit it.”

  Uncle David smiled and said, “The boy is horse-mad. But I own that I have never seen such a prime bit of horseflesh.”

  Bella nodded her agreement and they enjoyed their tea in silence for a few moments before she asked after her aunt and cousin.

  “My good wife and daughter are in the village spending my blunt. They heard tell that the mantuamaker has just got in some outrageously expensive material.”

  “Triss is determined to cast every other young lady in the shade this Season.” Bella smiled at her uncle’s disgruntled demeanor, knowing from experience to what lengths Triss would go to be the most fashionable lady in the county.

  “Once we get this business with your injured man dealt with, I plan to approach my brother again with the subject of your coming to London with us.”

  Sighing, Bella replaced her cup in her saucer and looked at her uncle’s heavy, yet still handsome features.

  “Uncle David, you are very generous, but you know Papa will never allow you to pay for my Season.” The family had visited this topic many times, and Bella saw no point in going over it again.

  “My brother is being unreasonable,” the earl stated, irritation evident in his tone. “There is no reason why you should not accompany us. Besides the fact that Tommy is my heir, you have always been a good example of proper behavior and decorum. Truth be told, Triss can be a complete hoyden. Elizabeth and I would feel more at ease if you were on hand to keep an eye on her. She certainly pays more attention to you than she has ever paid to us. I am highly annoyed that Alfred is being so difficult.” He finished his speech and reached for another biscuit.

  Bella looked at her uncle with understanding.

  Even though Uncle David and Papa looked alike, Bella knew how dissimilar in character they were. Papa was studious and sensitive, and cared little for anything else but his old books and researching the countryside for signs of the ancient Roman occupation of England. Bella thought it sad that since Mama’s death, Papa seemed to resent any attempt to divert him from his particular pursuits.

  Uncle David, on the other hand, was much more jovial and interested in the goings-on of his family. He loved to hunt and entertain, and despite his sometimes gruff manner, he could not deny his wife, daughter, or niece anything they requested of him.

  Bella knew that since Tommy was the heir to the earldom, her uncle took an even more particular interest in his brother’s family. This was just one more reason for Papa to resent what he considered his brother’s meddling in his affairs. Papa was also sensitive over the fact that his father, the fifth Earl of Penninghurst, had not been overly generous to his second son in his will.

  Because of this occasional friction, Bella was often the buffer between her father and uncle.

  “Enough of London.” The earl waved away the tired subject. “I was hoping that when you had a little time, you might come over to the Park and have a word with Michaels. He has gone off again with some strange plan for the gardens. Elizabeth and I don’t like it, but you know he pays us no mind.”

  Bella smiled with exasperated indulgence at her uncle. Her aunt and uncle seemed to find it almost impossible to gainsay their own servants. It was often left to Bella to coax and cajole, or outright demand, that a defiant servant do his masters’ bidding.

  Before she could respond, their conversation was interrupted by a knock on the front door. “Probably another neighbor trying to gawk at my patient,” Bella predicted.

  To her surprise, Robert Fortiscue stood on the doorstep. Bella’s blue eyes went wide and she felt a flush coming to her cheeks. She said nothing for a moment as he doffed his hat and greeted her.

  Bella looked at his very pale, very romantic features with pleasure. His blond hair was slightly tousled and his eyes a lighter blue than her own. He was an inch or so taller than she, and she often described his delicate-looking hands as “artistic.”

  “Mr. Fortiscue!” she finally said. “Won’t you come in? My uncle and I were just having our tea.” Bella smiled her pleasure at his arrival and stood back to let him enter.

  “How kind of you, Miss Tichley,” he said with a flourishing bow before turning to her uncle.

  “Lord Penninghurst! How good to see you! How well you look.” Robert’s tone was almost lilting.

  “How do you do, Fortiscue,” the earl said in a measured tone before rising and shaking the younger gentleman’s hand. He had the feeling that he might break Robert’s fingers if he gripped them too hard. The earl cast a quizzical glance toward his niece, who was gazing at Fortiscue with unabashed admiration. The earl did not understand it; his niece usually showed such superior judgment in all things.

  That was, until Robert Fortiscue began to exhibit a particular interest in her.

  At first the family had thought Bella’s usual good sense would surface and she would dismiss the young man. But, to everyone’s surprise, she seemed to enjoy his at
tentions.

  The one thing he and his younger brother agreed upon, the earl thought with some asperity, was that Robert Fortiscue was full of fustian and flummery.

  Still, it was very unlike his levelheaded niece to be taken in by such a sapskull, the earl thought as he watched Bella practically hang on every gesture Fortiscue made.

  He had discussed Bella’s uncharacteristic behavior with his wife and daughter recently, and they seemed to find it more understandable than he did. Triss believed she knew why Bella was partial to Fortiscue.

  “She likes him because he is so undemanding and easy to please,” she had explained one morning over breakfast.

  “What does that have to do with anything?” the earl had questioned through a mouthful of toast and jam.

  “Well, you have to admit, my dear,” his wife had interjected, “we are always relying on Bella to smooth everything over. She not only runs her father’s household, but she helps us with ours also.”

  “How do you mean?” the earl asked, rather dumbfounded by his wife’s comment.

  “For instance, last month when you insulted Cook and he had given notice, whom did you call upon to fix it all?”

  “Bella,” the earl stated, beginning to understand where his wife was leading.

  “Yes, Bella,” she continued. “We are always making demands on her. Why, I cannot plan a house party without Bella. Triss would have scandalized the countryside long ago if Bella had not extricated her from one scrape after another.”

  “Oh, Mother,” Triss had protested in a petulant tone.

 

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