Courting Lord Dorney

by Sally James

  Chapter 9

  During the next few dances for which, because they were not waltzes, Bella could accept invitations, she was thinking furiously. Mrs Ford was undeniably beautiful, and Lord Dorney might well be attracted to her. At the time of the accident to Felicity, when she had come to their rescue, she’d exhibited a calm efficiency which he would undoubtedly prefer to her own impetuous behaviour.

  Then Bella recalled Mrs Ford’s words when they’d met in Milsom Street. She had been going to stay with her sister in Mount Street. Lady Fulwood would be sure to know her. Even if Lord Dorney condemned her and Mrs Ford preferred to forget the acquaintance, she could hardly snub the guests of a neighbour.

  How this could help Bella’s own plans was unclear. She herself was unsure of what she intended. Half of her wanted to throw all caution to the winds and defy Society, but she also secretly hoped that Lord Dorney might, could she but explain to him, understand her actions and forgive her. Bella decided with characteristic optimism that it could do no harm if she were to meet Mrs Ford as soon as possible. When she escaped from her partner and went looking for the widow, however, Mrs Ford had vanished. So had Lord Dorney, and Bella went home in a state of suppressed fury tinged with anxiety that kept her awake for the remainder of the night.

  There was no opportunity the following morning to talk with Jane, for Lady Fulwood swept them both off to Bond Street to replenish their wardrobes. After a nuncheon of fruit and ham the dressmaker came to begin work on the several ballgowns Lady Fulwood insisted were absolutely essential.

  Fortunately that evening their hostess was engaged to dine and play cards with an old crony, and regretfully she decided she could not cancel this engagement.

  ‘Have an early night, my dears. You look tired, Bella. You must be rested for tomorrow since I plan to take you to call on a few friends. In the evening we’re going to the theatre, and afterwards to a reception.’

  ‘Thank goodness for a moment to ourselves,’ Bella exclaimed as they left the dinner table and went up to the drawing room.

  ‘It has been rather strenuous,’ Jane agreed with a laugh. ‘Did you enjoy the ball?’

  ‘Did you see Lord Dorney with Mrs Ford?’ Bella demanded, ignoring the question.

  ‘No! Where?’

  ‘At the ball, dancing together. After he saw me they must have left. I couldn’t find either of them later.’

  ‘Why did you look for them?’ Jane asked apprehensively.

  ‘Why shouldn’t I?’

  ‘You must have had a reason. Bella, you can’t go in pursuit of him, it isn’t at all the thing!’

  ‘I wasn’t,’ Bella began, and then she stopped. ‘I don’t know what I meant to do,’ she confessed. ‘It just seemed terribly important that I spoke to them. Do you recall Mrs Ford said she was staying in Mount Street?’

  ‘With her sister? I’d forgotten.’

  ‘Lady Fulwood will know them, doubtless. Jane, I must make him talk to me, and I can do it through them if he’s friendly with Mrs Ford. If we meet there he can’t possibly cut me. He’ll have to speak!’

  ‘He won’t speak alone with you, and even if he did what good would it do to talk to him?’ Jane asked. ‘You couldn’t give him any better explanation than you did in Bath. Forget him, Bella, and hope to find someone else.’

  ‘I don’t want anyone else,’ Bella said obstinately. ‘I’ll make him listen! I’ll force him to understand why I changed my name.’

  She would not be moved from this stance despite all Jane’s arguments, and her cousin was quite out of charity with her by the time the tea tray was brought.

  ‘You’re going to look foolish,’ she warned. ‘If you spend your time pursuing a man who doesn’t want you not only will everyone gossip and laugh, you’ll disgust any other men who might be interested in you.’

  ‘I don’t want any other men to be interested in me!’ Bella declared heatedly. ‘I won’t marry anyone except Lord Dorney. I know he’d understand if only I could explain properly, now he’s got over the shock, which I quite see must have been severe at first.’

  * * * *

  As Bella began to repeat the same arguments Jane, saying she was too weary to argue, left her and retired to bed. Bella sat on beside the drawing room fire, wondering exactly what she was to do, and devising schemes for bringing herself and Lord Dorney together.

  She knew only that her most fervent desire was to marry Lord Dorney. No other man would satisfy her. Not since she’d known him. If she couldn’t have him she didn’t care about her fortune, or the opinion of Society, or how she spent the rest of her life.

  Would Lady Fulwood be sympathetic and, more important, helpful? If she confided in the older lady could she expect advice and assistance?

  On the whole Bella decided she would be more likely to advise turning her attentions to other men. She wouldn’t understand the total repugnance Bella felt at the very thought of marriage with anyone else.

  Bella concluded she would have to be devious in using her hostess’s numerous friends so as to contrive meetings with Lord Dorney. For a start she would announce she knew Mrs Ford, and hatch plans for furthering the acquaintance. She would have to confess her masquerade to that lady, but she would try and make a joke of it. If Lord Dorney had not told Mrs Ford about her there was the possibility she could induce Mrs Ford to look on it as a harmless prank, even to understand the reasons for it. After all, she had admitted her own marriage to a much older man had been one of convenience. Surely she would sympathize with Bella’s repugnance at being sought for her money alone.

  Satisfied with this hope Bella took herself to bed. In the morning she hovered on the landing when Fanny took in Lady Fulwood’s breakfast tray and asked if she might speak with her.

  ‘Come in, child,’ Lady Fulwood called.

  Bella blinked in surprise when she saw the bedroom. Lady Fulwood’s enormous bed was draped with filmy gauze hangings, depending from a circular rail attached to the ceiling. It looked rather like a superior wigwam, pictures of which in one of her father’s books had entranced Bella as a child. The notion made Bella choke back a snort of laughter. Lady Fulwood in no way resembled a red indian squaw.

  She was propped up on a veritable mountain of pillows, their peach-coloured satin covers a delectable setting for her nightgown of deep green silk. She wore a nightcap of the same green silk, edged with Brussels lace, and a pile of unopened invitations was scattered over the peach satin sheets.

  ‘Come and sit beside me.’ Lady Fulwood gestured to a low chair near the bed. ‘Are you rested? Have you had breakfast?’

  Bella nodded. ‘Yes, thank you. I came to ask you if you know a Mrs Ford, who is staying with her sister in Mount Street.’

  ‘I don’t recall the lady. What’s her sister’s name, child?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘What does your Mrs Ford look like?’

  ‘She’s beautiful, about five and twenty, with russet hair and green eyes.’

  ‘That sounds rather like Lady Belstead, she’s got a flaming head of hair. They could be sisters.’

  ‘You know her?’ Bella breathed a sigh of relief.

  ‘We’ve met, but she and Sir William are far younger than I am, and move in a different set. Do you want to meet this Mrs Ford? Is she a friend from Lancashire?’

  Bella explained how they’d met, and although Lady Fulwood gave her a searching glance, she agreed to make an early opportunity of calling on Lady Belstead.

  Satisfied, Bella asked permission to take Rags walking in the Park.

  ‘Of course you may,’ Lady Fulwood said. She’d been as welcoming to the dog as she had to Bella, stipulating only that he be confined to basement quarters. ‘If Jane or one of the maids accompanies you it’s quite permissible to walk there at any time. You ride, I suppose?’

  ‘Yes, and I’ve been meaning to ask if I might buy a horse, and one for Jane too, and stable them somewhere nearby? And a pair of carriage horses. I mean to drive myself. O
ur groom Jackson will look after them.’

  ‘My groom Masters will tell him where to go. I’ve a staid old hack, but I don’t ride much these days. Keep him out of sentiment, I suppose. Masters hasn’t enough to do with just old Sergeant and my carriage pair. You want to cut a dash. Have you driven a pair before?’

  Bella shook her head. ‘No, but surely driving a pair isn’t so very difficult.’

  ‘Masters could teach you to drive if you wish. I don’t suppose your father did. He used to be a capital whip, but from what I remember of him he hadn’t any patience with learners.’

  ‘Papa?’ Bella exclaimed in amazement at this new light shed on her scholarly father. ‘He never drives himself now, but I drove a pony and trap at home.’

  ‘Pity he couldn’t have taught you, but perhaps you’ve inherited his skill.’

  * * * *

  As she and Jane walked towards the Park, with Rags secured on a leash to which he took great exception, Bella’s mind was busy with plans. If she rode or drove or walked the dog in the Park every day there must surely be opportunities for meeting Lord Dorney.

  She was completely wrapped up in her scheming, paying no attention to Jane’s desultory remarks about the unusually mild weather and the people and equipages they saw. They had scarcely entered the gates before Rags managed to wriggle out of his collar and dart off across the grass.

  ‘Rags, come back!’ Jane called, but the dog, revelling in his sudden freedom after days of being cooped up in carriages and kitchens, merely ran faster.

  ‘Confound him!’ Bella exclaimed. ‘He really is a country dog. Oh, look, what’s he doing?’

  Rags was prancing at the heels of a magnificent black horse, which haughtily ignored the irritation, unlike the skittish grey mare beside him. This animal was doing its best to rear, and being thwarted in this endeavour only by the firm hand of the black horse’s rider on the bridle.

  ‘Rags!’ Bella shouted, running across the grass towards her dog.

  He turned towards her, his long tongue hanging out of his mouth as he panted with happiness. She went dangerously close to the restive mare in order to scoop Rags up into the safety of her arms, and only when she had him safe did she turn to apologize to the riders.

  Lord Dorney was glaring down at her in fury.

  ‘How dare you let that undisciplined mongrel loose amongst horses which aren’t accustomed to having their heels snapped at!’ he demanded.

  As the familiar tones struck her ear Bella looked mutely up at him.

  ‘Lord Dorney! I - I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to let him loose. I don’t want him trampled on!’ she said in a stronger voice.

  ‘It’s Miss Collins, isn’t it? I didn’t know you’d left Bath,’ the rider of the grey, which had calmed down now Rags was under control, asked.

  ‘Everyone seems to have left Bath,’ Bella said, suppressing a groan of dismay as she looked up into Lady Andrews’ mocking face.

  ‘It was fortunate I was riding Felicity’s horse,’ Lady Andrews went on. ‘She’s still unable to ride, but if she’d had another accident it would have been too bad! I think we’d best return to Hill Street,’ she added, turning with a smile to Lord Dorney. ‘The lawyers will be there soon, with the drafts of the settlements.’

  ‘It was as though she was accusing me of causing the other accident!’ Bella said angrily as she turned on her heel and stalked off towards Jane, who had recognized the riders earlier and prudently remained at a distance.

  They retreated from the scene, trying to lose themselves in the throng of pedestrians taking the air.

  ‘He was furious, but at least he spoke to me!’ Bella said in a small voice after a few moments of silence. ‘And what settlements did she mean?’

  ‘I can’t imagine. But is his anger an improvement?’ Jane asked. ‘Bella, try to forget Lord Dorney.’

  Bella shook her head, but for the next few days forbore to mention Lord Dorney, even when they caught a glimpse of him in the distance at one or other of the functions they attended.

  * * * *

  ‘I need to go and see some people in Highgate,’ Bella said to Jane one morning. ‘I’ve just had a letter from Mr Jenkins about a couple he’s heard about there who are looking after two orphaned children, and who he thinks would be suitable for another of my houses. He’s written to tell them to expect me.’

  ‘Let Jackson drive you. Lady Fulwood is happy to lend us her carriage if she doesn’t want it herself. But please excuse me, I have so many letters to write.’

  Bella set off an hour later, and they found the cottage where the Floods lived, in a small lane just off the main road into Highgate village.

  Bella sat in the chaise looking at it. The small garden was neat, full of straight rows of newly-planted vegetables and clumps of rhubarb and herbs. Two apple trees were in blossom, and primroses showed in the grass patch surrounding them. Chickens, confined within a run whose walls were made of plaited rushes, pecked busily, and Bella could hear the grunting of pigs from a sty out of sight beyond the cottage. A rope hung down from one sturdy branch, and a boy of Jed’s age was attempting to climb it, watched by a small, plump woman who had paused from her digging.

  Bella climbed down from the chaise. ‘Please wait for me, Jackson.’

  The woman had turned, and wiping her hands on the sacking apron round her waist, hurried to the gate in the fence surrounding the garden.

  ‘Miss Trahearne, would it be?’ she asked, and Bella detected the accent of Yorkshire in her voice.

  ‘Yes. Mrs Flood, I think?’

  ‘Come in, do. Mr Jenkins wrote you’d be along soon. Mr Flood’s along at Widow Brent’s, digging her garden for her, but Benny can fetch him in a trice.’

  She turned and spoke to the lad, who looked curiously at Bella before running off down the lane. Then she ushered Bella into a small but pretty room at the front of the cottage.

  ‘Is Benny your own?’ Bella asked.

  ‘No, we’ve none of our own. He’s me sister’s lad, and when she and her man died he was just a baby, so we took him in. What else could we do? But he’s a good lad. Then we was asked to take in twins whose poor mother died giving birth. Her husband was killed, in the army, he was. It’s better for them than they great orphanages. Good country air, too. We moved here after Mr Flood had his accident and couldn’t work on the new docks no more. They’re out somewhere gathering wood for the fires.’

  Bella listed to the breathless recital. Mrs Flood was like one of the village women at home, full of talk whenever she had the opportunity.

  ‘Mr Jenkins tells me you’d like to look after more children, but you haven’t the room,’ she managed to interrupt.

  ‘Well, we’ve just the one bedroom, you see, and it wouldn’t be right to crowd more of us into it. Not now they’re growing. I know there’s families where ten or more sleep in one room, but that wouldn’t be giving the children a better chance. And we can’t rightly afford it any road, we’ve only the few shillings Mr Flood can earn doing odd jobs. He’s not strong enough since the accident to do a proper job. We grow most of our food, we manage fine, and we decided to help a few as much as we could.’

  ‘But if you had more room, and a proper wage, you could look after more?’

  ‘Mr Jenkins said you might help.’

  ‘You rent this cottage?’

  ‘Aye. How could we afford to buy it?’

  ‘I see there’s another next door. Is it the same landlord? Would he sell both to me? They’re close together, you could build another room or two between and make one big house. Or would you prefer to have one of the new houses they’re building, closer to London?’

  Mr Flood, a large, red-faced man, had entered the room with Benny as she spoke.

  ‘It’d be a pity to lose the garden, miss,’ he said slowly. ‘We get plenty of good food from it. And they new houses don’t have much garden space.’

  Bella introduced herself, and soon they were deep in discussion of possibilities
. She found herself liking the Floods even more than she had the couples running her other houses, for their solid common sense and sheer goodness, and determined to help them as much as she could. This sort of work would, in part, make up to her for the loss of happiness and Lord Dorney, if she did not succeed in changing his mind.

  * * * *

  In the few free hours between what to Jane seemed a constant round of shopping, morning calls, evening parties and sessions with the dressmaker, Bella found time to go with Jackson to inspect and buy a lively chestnut mare for herself and a grey gelding for Jane. She rose early and persuaded Jackson to give her driving lessons in the Park before many people were abroad.

  ‘I drove a gig round the lanes at home in Lancashire,’ she explained, ‘but our pony was old and fat couldn’t have bolted if he’d wanted to. I imagine driving in all this traffic in the streets, and in the Park, is a little more difficult.’

  ‘Yes, Miss Bella, it is,’ Jackson said, and Bella ignored the grin he tried to hide.

  To her delight she proved an apt pupil, and was eager to purchase an elegant curricle and a matched pair of black Welsh cobs to pull it. The horse she was using was sprightly, far more so than the pony she was used to, but she was ashamed to be seen in the carriage he pulled, which she considered to be no better than a country gig, She was highly indignant when Jackson, supported by Lady Fulwood’s coachman, Masters, tried to deter her from buying a pair, for she had dreams of exciting awe and admiration as she handled them successfully.

  Masters, as a result of a private consultation with Lady Fulwood, persuaded her she needed more practice first, and borrowed a frisky pair and a curricle from a friend, the groom of a noted whip presently out of town. After a lively and inconclusive tussle with them Bella conceded she would merely look foolish if she could not control a pair. Meekly she agreed she needed more experience before emulating the most famous whips of the day, promising herself that as soon as she felt confident she would acquire the showiest pair in London.