The Belle Dames Club

by Melinda Hammond

  ‘You may rest easy,’ Sir Robert said, with a reassuring glance at Lady Wyckenham. ‘I have already told Sir Joseph that I shall not be going on any more expeditions. My travel from now on will be confined to these islands.’

  ‘But even that is not without its dangers,’ objected William. ‘All the roads from London are beset by highwaymen; no one is safe, even in daylight. Why, Maramond was telling me only yesterday that his cousin – you know the one – the sea captain we met a couple of times when he was in town recently. Well, he was set upon on Hounslow Heath earlier this week—Mama-Nell, did you speak?’

  ‘No, my dear, it was a piece of nut caught in my throat,’ replied my lady, reaching for her wineglass.

  ‘Was that reported in the newspaper, William?’ asked Clarissa.

  ‘No; Maramond said his cousin had some warning of what was planned and had men waiting to surprise his attackers. Dashed villains, it’s the gallows for their kind!’

  ‘And do they report duels in the paper?’ said Clarissa, pursuing her own thoughts.

  ‘Duels, Clarissa?’ Lord Wyckenham looked down his nose at her. ‘Yes, I suppose they might. Mostly if the authorities find them out and prevent ’em.’

  ‘Why ever should you want to read about such things, Clarissa?’ Lady Wyckenham broke off her conversation with Sir Robert to enquire.

  Sir Robert winked at her across the table.

  ‘Perhaps there is some young man fighting for her honour.’

  Clarissa tried to smile at the jest, but it was Lord Wyckenham who replied, saying testily, ‘My sister would not be involved in anything so ill-bred, Ingleton. I would thank you to remember that.’

  ‘I suppose you consider what happened this morning was shocking, also,’ retorted Lady Wyckenham, disliking William’s tone in replying to her beloved.

  William lifted his napkin to dab at his lips.

  ‘We will not talk of that, if you please,’ he said heavily. ‘Although how you could think that going off with a man of Ullenwood’s stamp could possibly save the family from scandal—’

  ‘I think it was a very noble thing to do!’ cried Clarissa.

  ‘So do I,’ said Sir Robert, raising his glass to Lady Wyckenham, who blushed fierily.

  Clarissa giggled, and Lord Wyckenham looked revolted by this display of affection at the dinner-table.

  The gentlemen did not linger over their brandy once the ladies had withdrawn, and Clarissa excused herself before the tea-tray was brought in, pleading a headache. Since William retired soon after, saying he had papers demanding his attention, Lady Wyckenham found herself alone with Sir Robert.

  ‘What an obliging family you have, ma’am,’ he remarked, coming over to sit beside her and pulling her into his arms.

  She opened her mouth to protest and found herself being ruthlessly kissed. It was the most delightful sensation and she responded immediately, allowing him to push her back against the sofa before she remembered where they were. With a little groan she tried to push him away.

  ‘Oh Robert, no more, stop. William might come back.’

  She struggled to sit up as he released her.

  ‘Are you going to make me wait until we are married before I can touch you?’

  She began to straighten the muslin kerchief, keeping her eyes lowered.

  ‘No-o, but we must be discreet. I will tell Simmons to have the guest-room prepared for you for the night: it adjoins my dressing-room, and I have keys to all the doors – I have learned something from Dorothea Gaunt.’

  He met her twinkling glance and laughed.

  ‘You are a darling!’ he said, kissing her again.

  A discreet knocking at the door made her jump away. She looked at Sir Robert in horror, but he merely adjured her to straighten her cap.

  A footman entered to announce that a delivery had arrived for my lady.

  ‘A – a delivery?’ she repeated, looking blank. ‘At this time of the night? What is it?’

  ‘A trunk, my lady. The carrier has instructions that he is to deliver it to you personally.’

  She looked at Sir Robert, who shrugged.

  ‘I suggest you let them bring it in.’

  With much huffing and puffing two of the footmen carried in a large corded trunk, which Sir Robert directed them to set down before Lady Wyckenham.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, ‘that will be all. Pray ask Simmons to pay the carter for his trouble.’ The footmen withdrew and she looked down at the trunk.

  ‘Well,’ said Sir Robert, ‘it is not locked. Are you going to open it?’

  Slowly she unfastened the clasps and lifted the lid to release a waft of delicate perfume. The trunk was lined with blue silk, and seemed to be filled with silver tissue. She drew aside the top layer of fine paper and lifted out a length of filmy muslin, gossamer thin and decorated with blue ribbon.

  ‘Robert,’ she breathed, wide-eyed. ‘It-it is a bed-gown!’

  Sir Robert lifted the material: even through two thicknesses of muslin his hand was visible. He looked up at her, his eyes dancing.

  ‘Nell, have you not guessed yet? Look at the crest on the side.’

  She stared at the trunk and her eyes widened.

  ‘It is from Lord Ullenwood,’ she gasped. ‘He said he had bought me – oh! How dare he do this!’

  ‘It seems he dares very much,’ grinned Sir Robert. ‘He has sent you a wedding gift.’

  With that he threw back his head and laughed.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  By eight o’clock the following morning Clarissa could bear it no longer. She would call on Lord Alresford. She had heard him tell Sir Howard that he would meet him Saturday morning and now she was desperate to know if he was safe. In under an hour she was dressed and ready to leave the house. The butler looked up in surprise as she descended the stairs.

  ‘Miss – are you going out? Will you not step into the breakfast-room first?’ With an agitated hand she waved him away and was out of the door before he had time to tell her of the note Lord Wyckenham had directed should be given to her at breakfast.

  The footman who opened the door of Lord Alresford’s mansion in Bedford Square showed no surprise at finding a heavily veiled lady requesting to see the earl so early in the morning. He allowed her to step into the marbled hall, where a second, equally impassive footman showed her into the morning-room while a message was sent to the earl. Clarissa breathed a sigh of relief. At least he was not dead, then. A quarter of an hour later Lord Alresford entered, dressed with all his usual neatness in biscuit-coloured small clothes and a coat of blue superfine. Another relief, no sign of any injury. He stood by the door, regarding her with his impassive stare.

  ‘Madam?’ She lifted the veil and saw the look of surprise on his face as he recognized her.

  ‘I had to come,’ she said quickly. ‘Forgive me, I had to know if you had met Sir Howard.’

  ‘What? Oh … no. He had left town when Norwell called yesterday.’

  ‘Oh thank heaven.’ She sank down on to a chair.

  ‘Miss Wyckenham.’ He was staring at her, as if trying to memorize every detail. ‘You should not be here.’

  ‘I know it; I am sorry.’

  ‘You are very pale, let me get you something to drink—’

  Her heart ached when she observed him: he looked as miserable as she felt. With a jolt she realized how wrong she had been to come: it added to his pain, as well as her own. She summoned up every shred of resolution.

  ‘No, I am sorry. I must not stay. I-I wanted to … to thank you for helping Mama-Nell.’

  ‘It was nothing.’

  ‘That is not true,’ she cried. ‘Ullenwood is very powerful—’

  ‘I did it for you.’ He gave a short laugh. ‘I had not realized how incredibly dull my life had become before we met.’

  Tears welled in her eyes. She rose.

  ‘I must go.’

  She ran for the door, but he caught her and pulled her to him.

  ‘Not
yet. Tell me, tell me what you are going to do.’

  She could not look at him: just the touch of his hand was enough to set her pulse racing so fast she thought she must faint.

  ‘I – um … oh, this is dreadful!’ she cried. ‘I wish I had not come, I wish I had never met you!’

  She tried to pull away, but his grip was too strong.

  ‘Don’t say that,’ he muttered. ‘Tell me you don’t mean that.’

  She found herself being pulled into his arms where she subsided against his chest, sobbing.

  ‘No,’ she swallowed convulsively. ‘No, I could never regret knowing you.’ With an effort she pushed away from him, drawing on her pride to help her through this ordeal. ‘Lady Wyckenham and Sir Robert are to be married, is that not wonderful?’ She managed to walk away a few steps. ‘They have offered to let me live with them, but they will want some time alone first, so I shall return to my sister Anne for a few months and then … then I think I shall go abroad, to Rome. I have always wanted to see Rome.’

  ‘I believe the antiquities are fascinating.’ He was following her lead. ‘There will be plenty to divert you.’

  Not enough to make me forget you! She closed her eyes as tears threatened again. He walked to the window.

  ‘If you have the opportunity you should travel to Florence. You would like that. I was there— Good God!’

  She started. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Sir Gordon Medway. He is coming in.’

  Even as he spoke a distant bell jangled and there was the sound of voices in the hall. Clarissa stared at him.

  ‘He must not find me here!’

  Sir Gordon’s booming voice could be heard clearly.

  ‘In there, is he? No need to announce me!’

  ‘Quickly.’ He hurried her towards a door in the far wall. ‘Wait in there.’

  She found herself in a small, book-lined room. The earl pushed the door shut just as Sir Gordon entered the morning-room.

  ‘There you are, Alresford!’

  Clarissa noticed with alarm that the door to the little room had not closed properly. She heard the earl walking away but she dared not pull the door in case Sir Gordon should notice and discover her. She bit her lip, disliking the role of eavesdropper.

  ‘I am glad I find you up, sir,’ declared Sir Gordon. ‘I’ve distressing news. Come, my lord, we must be off at once.’

  ‘Off, Sir Gordon?’ Alresford’s deep voice came clearly to her. ‘I do not understand you. Where are we to go?

  ‘To the border, sirrah!’ There was the rustle of paper. ‘Read that, sir, read it! My little girl has run off with Lord Wyckenham!’

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  Clarissa thrust her gloved fist into her mouth and bit hard to prevent herself from crying out with surprise. William and Florence Medway? Her heart seemed to be trying to leap out of her chest, and it was a struggle to hear the earl’s quiet reply above its heavy drumming.

  ‘What would you have me do about it, Sir Gordon?’

  ‘Do? Why, man, we must catch ’em, and bring her back. From her note I know they left at midnight. If we set out now we shall catch up with them before nightfall and this whole sorry business can be hushed up.’

  ‘But, Sir Gordon, if she has run off rather than marry me….’

  ‘Bah! The girl doesn’t know her own mind.’

  ‘Pardon me, Sir Gordon, but I have always had the impression that Miss Medway is very strong-minded.’

  ‘She has been dazzled, sir, that’s what it is. Dazzled by Wyckenham.’

  Hysterical laughter threatened and Clarissa was obliged to bite hard again on her glove. That anyone should be dazzled by her prosy brother!

  ‘You have been too patient with her, Alresford,’ grumbled Sir Gordon. ‘Not enough of the lover. Well, that can change.’

  ‘I do not wish for an unwilling bride, sir.’

  ‘She ain’t unwilling, my lord, you have my word for it. No, the notice has been sent to the papers – think of the scandal if we have to revoke it. It must not be. My carriage is outside, we must be off—’

  ‘Let us not be hasty about this.’ Lord Alresford’s measured tones broke in. ‘You know, sir, that Lord Wyckenham is a wealthy man—’

  ‘Not as wealthy as you,’ came the swift reply.

  ‘Perhaps not, but he is destined for parliament.’ Alresford paused to let that sink in. ‘I believe he is standing at the next election. Think how that would help you in your good works, Sir Gordon.’

  There was a long silence. Clarissa longed to shift her position, but dared not move. At last Alresford pressed home his advantage.

  ‘Miss Medway is cut out to be a political hostess: she was most disappointed to learn that I have no real ambition in that direction. Wyckenham is an honourable man, Sir Gordon. That he has taken the step of flying to the border shows that his affections are deeply engaged. Go after them by all means, sir, but tell them that you come with my blessing: I will not stand in the way of their marriage.’

  ‘But – the announcement—’

  ‘I will attend to that, Sir Gordon. I shall draft a notice today. I think you will find that it will explain everything most satisfactorily. There will be no hint of disgrace attached to your daughter.’

  ‘Hmmm, I suppose it might do.’

  There was the sound of footsteps, and a door opening.

  ‘Then I suggest you move with all speed to overtake your daughter, sir. Tell her I bear her no ill-will. Indeed, I wish her every happiness with one who, I believe, is ideally suited to be her life-partner.’

  A silence.

  ‘Very good of you, my lord. But, will you not come with me? I—’

  ‘Sir Gordon, my presence could only complicate matters. It is better that you go alone.’

  ‘Aye, aye. Well, I’ll be away then. Good day to you.’

  ‘God speed, Sir Gordon, and good luck.’

  Clarissa was still standing by the door when the earl pulled it open.

  ‘You heard everything?’

  She could only nod. He took her hand and led her back in to the morning-room.

  ‘William,’ she said at last. ‘William?’

  He grinned.

  ‘When you introduced them at Holborn you could not have guessed how it would end.’

  ‘It begins to make sense,’ she said, a tiny crease in her brow. ‘His remaining in London, the trips to Mount Street.’

  ‘Your worthy brother has met his match.’

  ‘And I am very happy for him but … William, elope?’

  His arms were around her.

  ‘Love is a very powerful emotion, Clarissa. We cannot always control it.’

  He reached up and tugged at the ribbons of her bonnet.

  ‘What are you doing?’ she asked

  ‘I cannot kiss you while you are wearing it. It is in my way.’

  With a laugh she removed the offending bonnet and veil and dropped them to the floor.

  ‘Is that better?’ she asked, looking up shyly.

  ‘Much.’ He kissed her. ‘How soon can we be married?’ he murmured, nibbling at her ear.

  She shivered deliciously.

  ‘As soon as possible, if you please.’

  He kissed her again, then dropped on to the satin-covered settee and drew her on to his knee.

  ‘Very well, and I shall take you to Rome for our honeymoon, then Naples, and Florence.’

  ‘Mmm.’ She leaned against his shoulder. ‘And when we return, will you continue your support for Mr Sharp and the anti-slavery campaign? I should very much like to help.’

  ‘I don’t see how we can avoid it, if my brother-in-law is involved.’ He bent a frown upon her and said severely, ‘Is that why you are marrying me, ma’am? For my wealth and influence?’

  She pulled his head down towards her. ‘No,’ she murmured, ‘because I cannot live without you.’

  ‘Nor I you.’ His voice was unsteady, and his burning look sent her spirits soaring.

  �
��I love you, Clarissa.’

  With a sob she threw her arms about his neck and kissed him. When at last he released her she leaned against him, her head resting on his shoulder, listening to the beat of his heart.

  ‘That night, in the hut,’ she said slowly, ‘when you turned away from me, I thought….’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I thought you did not … want me.’

  He shifted his position so that he could look at her.

  ‘Not want you!’

  He gently pushed her aside and got up to walk to the door. She watched him, frowning.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Locking the door.’ He said. ‘I don’t want us to be disturbed.’ He walked back and dropped on his knees beside her. ‘Now,’ he smiled, ‘let me show you just how much I want you.’

  The following week all the major newspapers carried the announcement of the marriage of Lord Wyckenham, of Wyckenham Manor in Devonshire, to Miss Florence Medway, only daughter of Sir Gordon Medway of Devizes. At the same time Marius, ninth Earl of Alresford would be married to Miss Clarissa Wyckenham, sister to the above Lord W., the marriages to take place in a double ceremony at St George’s Hanover Square, on Tuesday se-ennight and would be followed one week later by the marriage of dowager Lady Wyckenham to Sir Robert Ingleton (Bart), renowned scientist, explorer, and member of the Royal Society.

  By the Same Author

  Maid of Honour

  The Bargain

  Lady Vengeance

  The Dream Chasers

  The Highclough Lady

  A Lady at Midnight

  Dance for a Diamond

  Gentlemen in Question

  Copyright

  © Melinda Hammond 2007

  First published in Great Britain 2007

  This edition 2011

  ISBN 978 0 7090 9716 7 (epub)

  ISBN 978 0 7090 9717 4 (mobi)

  ISBN 978 0 7090 9718 1 (pdf)

  ISBN 978 0 7090 8272 9 (print)

  Robert Hale Limited