Courting Lord Dorney

by Sally James

  ‘Unfortunately things can never be the same between us after what has passed.’

  Bella’s patience, never strong, snapped.

  ‘I thought you loved me!’ she stormed. ‘I know you were about to offer for me! Then because you discover the abominable fact that I have a larger fortune than you imagined, and because of the stupidity of people I’ve never even met, you turn against me! Is that just? Is it fair? Is it fair to me? I thought we could talk about anything!’ she ended on a wail of distress, furiously blinking away the tears of anger.

  ‘Do I understand you are offering for me?’ he asked in tones of such astonished disgust that Bella threw all caution and sense to the winds.

  ‘I was,’ she retorted, ‘but I must have been mad! How could I ever have imagined I loved a stiff-necked, pompous bore like you! Pray give me the reins, sir! I won’t drive a yard further with you!’

  Rashly she snatched at the reins and he swung them away from her grasp. The horse, startled and unable to interpret this odd signal, and in addition made nervous by Bella’s raised voice, took exception to what was going on and set off at an uncontrolled gallop.

  ‘Sit back and hold on!’ Lord Dorney commanded, and Bella was so aghast at what she’d done she speechlessly obeyed, clinging to the side of the seat as Lord Dorney calmly and quickly brought the animal under control.

  The involuntary gallop had brought them close to the Stanhope Gate, and from there it was a short distance to Mount Street. Apart from the stifled, muttered apology Bella forced herself to give, they accomplished the drive in silence.

  ‘Can you get down by yourself? I can’t leave the horse, he’s still excited. Pray give my apologies to Lady Fulwood,’ Lord Dorney said to Bella as he drew up outside the house. ‘I’ll take the carriage round to the stables, and then I have other matters to attend to. Your servant, Miss Trahearne.’

  * * * *

  ‘I’ll show him! How dare he talk to me like that! I’ll show him how little I care!’ Bella was still fuming half an hour later as she strode up and down Jane’s bedroom.

  ‘Oh Bella, forget the wretched man!’ Jane pleaded. ‘It’s hopeless to try and win him back, and from what you say now I don’t think you really want to.’

  ‘I hate him!’ Bella declared. ‘He was odious, he dressed me down as though I were some lowly servant taking liberties! I’ll ignore him! I’ll make him regret speaking to me like that! I - I - Oh, Jane, what shall I do?’

  ‘Find someone else,’ Jane recommended.

  ‘Yes, I’ll do just that! I’ll show him!’

  Jane’s apprehensions over this declaration were fully justified during the next few weeks. Bella was deaf to all her protests, and when Jane turned for help to Lady Fulwood, who had by now made her own deductions about the previous state of affairs between Bella and her godson, the only advice she received was an amused recommendation to leave well alone.

  Lord Dorney spent little time in the house, for he had his own friends and social engagements, so they met more frequently at balls and other houses than in Mount Street. Bella found the situation intolerable, but could find no satisfactory way of changing it.

  Fortunately for her standing with the ton she had already received vouchers for Almack’s, and been granted permission by the Patronesses to waltz. Otherwise, Jane knew, she would have flouted all convention by accepting invitations regardless.

  Even so, her outrageously flirtatious behaviour raised many eyebrows, and drew to her many men, including some who were married, and others who were uninterested in marriage or her fortune, as well as dozens of impecunious suitors, young and old.

  Bella seemed no longer to care whether she was courted for her money. Nor did she appear to notice the black looks cast at her by neglected wives, and debutantes whose prospective suitors appeared to be more interested in the latest heiress than in them, or hear the often deliberately loud comments about her fast behaviour.

  She accepted all the homage offered, appeared to believe all the flattery, danced every dance and left twice as many would-be partners disappointed. During the daytime she drove or rode out with as many of her suitors as she possibly could, and seemed to have no time for rest or quiet reflection.

  If Jane noticed that she was livelier and more intent on attracting attention when Lord Dorney was present, she kept the reflection to herself. Nor did she comment to Bella when, as occasionally happened, Lord Dorney asked Bella to dance. As a guest in the same house it would have been commented upon if he had not, she told herself, although she did not venture this opinion to Bella. It didn’t mean he had changed his mind about the girl.

  Bella had considered refusing to dance with him, but the old longing had been too fierce. She had even, on one occasion when he had arrived late at a ball, ruthlessly struck out from her programme the names of two of her promised partners and granted him the dances.

  He rarely asked to waltz with her, and she was on the whole grateful. On those occasions his proximity, the clasp of his hand about her waist, and his lips so close to hers evoked a feeling of delirium so intense that she wondered how she had not swooned.

  They talked of trivialities.

  ‘You are well, I trust?’

  ‘The rout last night was a squeeze, was it not?’

  ‘Did you enjoy the opera?’

  ‘I thought the soprano too weak.’

  Eventually Bella plucked up the courage to mention her driving.

  ‘I’ve been receiving instruction from several gentlemen,’ she told him as they stood sipping lemonade at Almack’s one evening, after he had danced with her. ‘None have taught me so much as you did in just one lesson.’

  ‘You are not, I trust, suggesting a repetition of that lesson? As I recall it you wished most vehemently never to drive with me again.’

  Bella’s face flamed. ‘Do you have to remind me continually of every rash word or deed?’ she demanded angrily.

  ‘I apologize,’ he said stiffly. ‘I saw you driving most competently along Piccadilly this morning, and noted how much you’ve improved.’

  ‘I didn’t see you,’ she was startled into saying.

  ‘I was on my way to my club. I frequently spend part of the morning there.’

  ‘Is that White’s?’ Bella asked eagerly. ‘The one with the bow window.’

  ‘Yes, it’s a great attraction,’ he replied, amused and speaking more naturally than for some time.

  ‘I do so wish to see it, but Jane says I mustn’t venture into St James’s Street.’

  ‘It isn’t advisable.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Ladies do not care to be seen in a quarter of the town almost exclusively occupied by men,’ he said dismissively, and Bella glanced speculatively up at him through discreetly lowered eyelashes.

  ‘Stuffy!’ she remarked, and smiled sweetly at him as her next partner came to claim her and she was whisked away.

  * * * *

  The next morning Bella summarily dismissed the swain who had hoped to ride out with her, giving the specious excuse that she had the headache. Half an hour later she surreptitiously left the house and went to the stables where she gave Masters orders to harness the carriage.

  ‘Do you drive alone, Miss Trahearne?’ he asked worriedly as he slowly complied. ‘If so, I ought to come with you. Jackson’s not here, he’s taken one of the horses to be shod.’

  ‘Lady Fulwood needs you to drive her to visit a friend,’ she replied. ‘You know I’m safe to drive on my own now.’

  As soon as the carriage was ready she scrambled in, settled the skirts of her new, mannish driving coat which possessed several daring capes, and made certain her jaunty little hat, of the same olive green, and adorned with a perky feather, was securely attached to her curls.

  Before Masters could argue further she gave her horse the office, and set off at a sedate pace towards the Park. Masters looked after her with a worried frown, but she had chosen her time well, for at that moment Lady Fulwood’s foo
tman appeared to say his mistress was ready, and would Masters bring the carriage round at once.

  He could do nothing, and did not feel it his duty to inform Lady Fulwood of her young guest’s behaviour. It was true she drove well, for she seemed to have inherited the skill of her father, but she was inexperienced. However, she could come to little harm in the Park. He dismissed her from his mind and concentrated on negotiating the crush as he drove towards the less fashionable part of the town where Lady Fulwood’s old friend lived.

  Bella, meanwhile, once out of Master’s sight, swung into a street leading towards Piccadilly.

  The traffic was much heavier than she was accustomed to, and the horse was restive. Her nervousness was transmitted along the ribbons and caused him to break into a trot too fast for her comfort as she joined the flow of vehicles. By the time she had negotiated a dray, narrowly missing a stage coach travelling recklessly in the opposite direction, and squeezed with inches to spare between two high perch phaetons whose occupants, Corinthians of the highest order, had halted to engage in a conversation, she was beginning to wish she had never begun this expedition.

  She made the turn into St James’s Street without mishap, and breathed a sigh of relief to find it comparatively deserted. The horse had settled down and she brought it more under control, slowing down in order to stare about her.

  So this was where all the gentlemen’s clubs were, she thought, looking eagerly for the famous bow window.

  She saw it at the very moment she heard someone calling her name, and with a startled jerk on the reins brought the carriage to a halt.

  ‘Miss Trahearne, are you lost? You shouldn’t be here, really you shouldn’t!’

  ‘Major Ross!’ Bella exclaimed. ‘Oh, I - that is - ‘

  ‘Did the horse run away with you? He seems far too spirited for you to control. Would you allow me to drive you back home?’

  ‘I can control him perfectly well, thank you!’ Bella replied indignantly, and suddenly became aware of several men who had stopped and were observing her with considerable interest. She coloured, for in their eyes she read either a speculative interest or outright condemnation.

  Tossing her head she made to move on, but before she could someone sprang into the seat beside her. Bella gasped in alarm, and then began to protest as the reins were taken ruthlessly out of her hands and the newcomer shook the horse into motion.

  ‘Be silent! You may explain this deplorable behaviour when I’ve driven you home!’ Lord Dorney snapped, and Bella, aware that most of the spectators had heard him, subsided against the seat and stared stonily ahead of her.

  * * * *

  Lord Dorney walked swiftly through the August portals of Whites, ignoring the jocular comments of two of his friends about the correct way to treat disobedient chits, and made his way to the library, where he found Alexander slouching in a chair, his head in his hands.

  ‘Alex, I’m sorry to be late. An unavoidable delay, I’m afraid.’

  Alexander glanced up. ‘So I heard. A pretty woman’s always going to be an excuse. Sorry! I’m out of sorts, Richard.’

  Lord Dorney sat beside him. ‘What is it?’ he asked.

  ‘Felicity! She and Lady Andrews have come to London to choose her bride clothes, so I came up too. She’s accused me of not trusting her. How can she? I only want to be near her.’

  ‘Nerves, my dear fellow. She’s very young, and almost all brides have occasional doubts.’

  For a moment Alexander looked hopeful, then he shook his head. ‘That doesn’t explain why she’s been riding in the Park very early for three days running with that fop, Frederick Ross.’

  ‘Has she, by Jove?’ Lord Dorney looked thoughtful. ‘I don’t know her very well, but is she the sort of girl to be flattered by poets swearing devotion to her eyebrows or similar nonsense?’

  ‘I didn’t think so. She’s always seemed very sensible in Bath.’

  ‘Is this her first visit to London? Surely, if she hadn’t accepted you, this would have been her come out?’

  Alexander looked startled. ‘I hadn’t thought of that. She’s been out in Bath society for a year.’

  ‘Then perhaps her head has been a little turned by all the attention. She’s a very pretty girl.’

  ‘That could be it.’ Alexander was looking more cheerful.

  ‘Give her time, and be patient,’ Lord Dorney advised. ‘Have you fixed a date for the wedding?’

  ‘The end of July, we thought. We didn’t see any point in waiting, we know our own minds. At least, I thought we did.’

  ‘It’s to be in Bath?’

  ‘Yes. Most of our friends live there. Richard, will you support me? I’d rather have you than anyone else.’

  ‘Of course I will. Now forget your poet and don’t quarrel with Felicity, and all will be well.’

  Chapter 11

  ‘Miss Bella, they’re too lively for you,’ Jackson protested.

  ‘Nonsense.’ Bella patted the nose of the dappled grey Welsh cob as he looked out from the stable door. ‘They’re beautiful, perfectly matched, and I’m told they belonged to a man who was a capital whip.’

  ‘Why has he sold them?’

  ‘I believe he had a reverse at cards, and has gone abroad for a while.’

  ‘They’ll need expert handling if he was as good as you’ve heard.’

  ‘Do you imply I can’t? That I’m not expert enough?’

  ‘No, no, Miss Bella - ‘

  ‘I’ve driven myself for years in Lancashire. Just one pony, I’ll admit, and driving in town traffic, or even a pair in the Park, needs extra skills, to be sure, but I’ve had lessons for weeks now, I’ve driven a few pairs, and I’m tired of always having to be escorted!’

  ‘Yes, Miss Bella,’ Jackson said, but in a tone that clearly implied he didn’t agree.

  ‘It’s just that they haven’t had much exercise the past few days. But if it makes you any easier, you shall drive out with me when the curricle arrives. I bought it yesterday and it should be here this morning.’

  ‘Curricle? But - yes, miss,’ Jackson said again.

  Bella smiled to herself as she wandered back into the house and sat musing in her room. He’d clearly understood she meant it, and had given up protesting. After a few drives, she would be competent enough to cut a dash in the Park. So many men had offered to teach her, but she was bored with all of them.

  Lord Dorney had not offered after their last encounter, when he’d driven her home from St James’s Street. He spent most of his time with friends or at his clubs, and though she tried to be in the breakfast room at the same time as he was, on most days he either rose very early, or came downstairs long after she felt unable to remain, toying with a roll, and the servants eyeing her with ill-concealed curiosity or amusement.

  There was a limit to how much she could pursue him, she told herself, after enduring a sleepless night during which she had rejected several notions of how to attract his attention as either impracticable or just silly. So she would forget him. As she had no desire to marry any of her other suitors, who were all, she was convinced, as attracted to her fortune as her person, she would behave as she wished.

  She scorned the conventions of Society, listened to Jane’s advice politely, but ignored it. As Lady Fulwood’s guest politeness dictated she must conform to her hostess’s notion of proper behaviour, but that would soon end. She would rent for herself a house in London and move there as soon as possible. In fact she was already negotiating for a small one in Dover Street. If Jane refused to come with her, and since Philip was expected home at any time this was a real possibility, she would hire a companion. Even Bella recognized the impossibility of living totally on her own. She did not wish to be ostracized by all but the fastest set. And a compliant companion could write notes and run errands for her.

  Bella shivered slightly. It wasn’t what she really wanted, but she could not impose on Lady Fulwood if she did things that lady disapproved of. Jane, and Philip when he
came, would soon be going home to Lancashire. What would Lord Dorney do? He seemed to lodge with friends when in London, but there would be a limit to how long he could do that. Would he go to Dorney Court when the Season ended? What would she do then?

  There was a tap on the door and Mary appeared.

  ‘Miss Bella, there’s a visitor for you. Are you in?’

  Bella looked up. ‘Who is it?’

  ‘He says he’s your cousin, Mr Gareth Carey.’

  * * * *

  ‘Dan, the whole situation is impossible!’

  Sir Daniel looked at Lord Dorney with sympathy in his eyes. ‘Only in your eyes, Richard. You’re being too stubborn. You love the girl, so why don’t you admit it?’

  ‘I don’t know what I feel for her! I thought I loved her, but when I discovered she’d lied to me, I began to question what I felt.’

  ‘Shock, I imagine. Richard, no woman’s perfect, and she lied, assumed a different name, for what seemed to her a very good reason. Can’t you see it from her point of view? If you had a fortune, would you want to be pursued by girls and their mamas who were interested only in your money and not yourself?’

  ‘Of course not, and I understand that.’

  ‘It’s rather different for a girl. A man with a fortune can choose the girl he wants to wed, and ask her. Girls have not the same freedom. They can’t offer for the man they want.’

  Lord Dorney laughed ruefully. ‘But she did, in effect.’

  ‘Then why the devil can’t you see that she wants you, and accept? Give away all her money if that would make you feel better!’

  ‘I think she might have something to say about that!’

  ‘Well, arrange the settlements so that she has total control over the money. But consider, would you want her to live at Dorney Court in its present state, with workmen all over the place? Doing small jobs as and when you decide you can afford them? She could pay for your renovations and have the place fit for her within weeks, a month or so. You wouldn’t need to let your London house, but if you did would you refuse to bring her to London because you couldn’t afford a suitable house for the Season?’