Lady Vane's Secret (Regency Secrets and Scandals Book 1)

by Elizabeth Hanbury

  ‘How can I forget,’ whispered Isabella. Remembering the kisses she and Hal had shared that morning brought a hint of colour to her cheeks. With vivid clarity, Isabella recalled the feel of his body beneath her fingertips, his mouth moving slowly over hers, the way she had longed for more…. Pushing the image away, she denounced herself inwardly for a fool.

  ‘It was then Dinny found the courage to tell me how he felt,’ observed Harriet, smiling at the memory. ‘I was so happy, Isabella – I never thought that I would wish to marry again, but Dinny has proved me wrong. I told him that his feelings were reciprocated. I did not know what to do next.’

  Isabella gave her a quizzical look. ‘Why? What do you mean?’

  ‘I was not certain that you loved Lord Bramwell. He seemed to be in love with you, but I was not sure how you felt. You keep your emotions well hidden, Isabella,’ said Harriet. ‘I knew that you did not love Sir Seymour – you were fond of him, of course, but you did not look at him in the same way. There was always something else in your eyes whenever you looked at Lord Bramwell.’

  ‘I thought it must be obvious how much I had come to care for him,’ said Isabella.

  ‘I assure you that it was not, my dear. When Dinny asked me to marry him, I explained that I could not marry him immediately and leave you alone. Dinny was most understanding – I have told him a little about your unhappy past, my dear – and we agreed to wait until it became clear if you were in love with Lord Bramwell or not. Of course, at Julia’s ball, you and Lord Bramwell appeared very close and affectionate, so I decided to talk to you when we returned home and explain afterwards about Sir Seymour and me. Events made that impossible and it was not the right time to speak of my happiness.’

  ‘You are so generous, Harriet; I hope Sir Seymour appreciates your true worth,’ said Isabella warmly. ‘But I have ruined everything. Sir Seymour will not know where you have gone, and he will be angry or upset – probably both.’

  ‘He will be neither because I wrote to him last night to tell him of our destination, and, briefly, the reason for my departure. As soon as things are more settled, I shall return to London, or ask him to come to Sussex so that we may sort out our affairs.’

  ‘But you must still marry him,’ cried Isabella. ‘We shall still see you often, and Dominic and I will do very well on our own.’

  ‘Of course you will, my dear – you will marry Hal, I shall marry Dinny and we will all be happy.’

  Isabella gaped at her aunt. She laughed incredulously, hurt and disbelief on her face. ‘You must be mad to even suggest that when you know what he has done.’

  ‘But I do not know, Isabella. Lord Bramwell would not behave in that way in my opinion. Tell me, how did you hear of his involvement?’

  Isabella proceeded to tell Harriet everything: how her initial attraction to Hal had grown into love, what she had witnessed at the theatre and in the garden, Lady Portland’s revelation that she and Hal still cared for each other, and of Hal’s involvement in the wager.

  When Isabella fell silent, Harriet declared bluntly, ‘She was lying. If you had told me earlier that Lady Portland was responsible for this, I would not have let you leave London.’

  ‘You cannot know she was lying.’

  ‘Isabella, she is a spiteful, designing harpy who would use any means to destroy your relationship with Lord Bramwell.’

  ‘B-But I saw her kissing him,’ said Isabella. ‘And are you aware that they were once engaged?’

  ‘Yes. Lady Bramwell, who was extremely angry that the woman had arrived at Julia’s ball uninvited, told me all about Lady Portland. When Felicity jilted her son and married Portland instead, Marguerite was very relieved. She also told me that Hal realized long ago it was nothing more than a youthful infatuation.’

  ‘This much I already know – Hal has told me himself,’ acknowledged Isabella.

  ‘Then perhaps you should believe Lord Bramwell rather Lady Portland,’ retorted Harriet drily. ‘Did you know that Lady Portland has been pursuing Lord Bramwell since returning to London, but he would have none of it? From what you have said, you did not see Lord Bramwell kissing Lady Portland – you only saw her trying to kiss him.’

  ‘But the wager—’ began Isabella faintly.

  ‘Don’t be naïve, my love,’ interjected her aunt. ‘You know that wagers are commonplace. Indeed, there may be wagers surrounding you, but that does not mean Lord Bramwell is involved in them. Of course, only he can confirm that Felicity Portland was lying, but I advise you to compare the sincerity of his words and actions with her reputation. A predatory woman like Felicity Portland would sense your vulnerability and use it to her advantage.’

  ‘She was very convincing, but now I don’t know what to think.’ Isabella turned her troubled gaze to her aunt, ‘If you are right, then Hal must hate me now for doubting him.’

  Sir Seymour was making good progress. He was travelling in his private post-chaise, emblazoned with his coat of arms and equipped with luxurious velvet upholstery. Occasionally, he leaned out of the window to instruct his postillions to not slacken their speed, but, an hour from Swanborough at a sudden sharp turn in the road, the carriage lurched violently and came to a halt at a drunken angle.

  Sir Seymour stuck his head out of the window. ‘Why have we stopped, Thomas?’

  ‘Looks like we have a wheel trapped in a rut, sir,’ came the reply. ‘You’ll have to get out while me, Carter and Fielding try and release it.’

  ‘Deuced bad luck!’ grumbled Dinny in annoyance. ‘Can I help?’

  ‘Thank you, sir, but this will be a muddy job. Best stand clear and let us deal with it.’

  ‘This is no time to worry about mud,’ replied Dinny, stepping out of the chaise and trudging to the rear to inspect the trapped wheel with his servants. ‘If we lift the axle, Carter can go to the horses’ heads and lead them forward. Hurry, man!’

  Thomas looked up and tried to remonstrate again with his employer. ‘But Sir Seymour – your boots will be filthy afterwards.’

  ‘To hell with my boots!’ declared Sir Seymour roundly, ‘I need to get to Swanborough. Now help me with this axle!’

  Meanwhile, some miles behind Sir Seymour’s stranded carriage, Julia and Theo were making rapid progress.

  ‘Theo, have a care!’ cried Julia, as her brother swung the curricle expertly around a bend. ‘If you throw me into a ditch after your helpful advice to Freddy last night, I will never speak to you again.’

  Theo grinned. ‘Is that a promise, Ju?’ he asked, urging the high-stepping bays to even greater speed. ‘If it is, I’ll make sure I throw you into a ditch.’

  ‘You are incorrigible – I pity the poor girl you fall in love with.’

  ‘No need to,’ replied Theo affably, turning to look at her. ‘Whoever it is, I won’t throw her into a ditch either – even Hal says I can drive to an inch.’

  ‘For goodness’ sake, keep your eyes on the road!’ shrieked Julia, gripping the side of the carriage as the lightly sprung curricle bounced over a bump. ‘I want to arrive uninjured.’

  ‘Do you want me to spring ’em faster?’ asked Theo, with a chuckle.

  Julia groaned. ‘No! This pace is perfectly acceptable, but I would be happier if you concentrated on your driving.’

  ‘Then stop talking to me,’ he said, laughing mischievously.

  Exasperated, she observed, ‘I’ll never understand why Freddy listened to you last night.’

  ‘As to that, it seems to me everything will turn out fine – you’re off to see Freddy, throw yourself on his chest, blame me for everything and declare your love. In response, he will gather you into his embrace, blame me for everything and declare his love – very simple, really. It just happens that this reconciliation will take place in Sussex instead of London.’

  ‘Oh, you’re quite impossible, Theo,’ said Julia, unable to smother a chuckle.

  At three o’clock in the afternoon, Isabella’s carriage turned into the narrow lane that led to Hayst
acks. They had stopped briefly at The Plough so that Freddy could order a room for the night, and then moved on again, past the church, out of the village for another mile and a half until they had reached the lane. It was little more than a dirt track with deep, water-filled ruts and the coachman negotiated it with care to prevent the carriage getting bogged down.

  Isabella could see the roofline of the house against the afternoon sky. Gables and chimney shafts rose over a stone-tiled roof, underneath which nestled a compact, two-storey Elizabethan brick building incorporating bays with mullioned windows and a projecting porch. This idyllic image was spoilt somewhat by the air of neglect which surrounded the property, evidenced by the occasional missing roof tile and overgrown garden.

  They climbed out and Dominic and Aesop ran around the gravel drive, stretching their cramped legs while Isabella went to ring the bell. When there was no reply, she rang it a second time, saying to Harriet, ‘I hope Mr and Mrs Johnson will not be too shocked to see us. They live in quarters off the kitchen, at the rear of the house, so it will take some time for them to answer.’

  Eventually, the heavy front door swung open to reveal a wizened servant, who stared in surprise at the collection of people on the doorstep, and the carriage laden with portmanteaux and a bird cage sitting in the drive.

  ‘L-Lady Vane,’ he stammered. ‘We were not expecting you for another month at least. Oh, Lord – the missus will be in such a panic; there’s not much food in the house and no fires lit.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Johnson,’ replied Isabella, walking through into the musty, oak-panelled hall. ‘Our departure was hasty and I had no time to send a message on ahead. We shall manage somehow.’ She introduced Harriet, Dominic and Freddy and explained that they would need beds made up for the night, but Freddy would be staying at The Plough.

  ‘It’s creepy here, Mama,’ said Dominic, who had been eyeing the gloomy interior.

  ‘It will seem more welcoming when we have settled in, love,’ said his mother. ‘Johnson, if it is convenient, I shall have the room that I stayed in on my previous visit.’

  ‘The bed will need airing, Lady Vane – it’s fearful cold and with all the repairs, the place smells of damp plaster.’

  ‘Then our first task must be to light fires in here, in the bedrooms, in one of the parlours, in the dining-room and the drawing-room.’

  Mrs Johnson, who was as round as her husband was thin, came bustling in to see who was at the door. After expressing as much surprise as her spouse at the arrivals, she announced, ‘Some of the rooms can be prepared in a trice. The lad who works in the stables can go and get my niece to help us. There is a good supply of wine in the cellar – the late master was never close-fisted with his drink – but I’m worried about what you will have for dinner, Lady Vane. I’ve only a ham and a couple of chickens, and you and your guests will be used to far better fare.’

  ‘That will be acceptable,’ said Isabella. ‘Mr Isherwood, would you like to take your horse to the stables? They are in reasonable condition and should prove adequate.’

  ‘I’m sure they will, Lady Vane,’ replied Freddy with a smile. ‘Could I have a word with you in private first?

  Isabella agreed and, after asking Harriet to supervise the unloading of the luggage and suggesting Dominic and Aesop went to the kitchen with Mrs Johnson for a glass of milk, she led the way into the small front parlour. ‘I have been most grateful for your help today,’ she said, adding teasingly, ‘You kept your promise, even though it was clear that you were not at your best.’

  He grinned. ‘No, my head ached like the devil, although I should not complain when my discomfort was self-inflicted.’

  ‘I expect you will travel back tomorrow?’

  ‘Yes, I am sorry that I cannot be of more use, but I wish to return immediately,’ said Freddy.

  ‘To see Lady Julia?’ she ventured.

  ‘Yes.’

  Blushing, Isabella admitted, ‘There are … difficulties between myself and Lord Bramwell and that is why I left London suddenly.’

  ‘When my head had cleared, I knew that something must have happened; I saw how upset you were last night.’

  ‘I’m sorry, but I can’t discuss it at the moment,’ she said, biting her lip. ‘I hardly know what to think anymore and I need to reflect.’

  ‘Of course, Lady Vane,’ replied Freddy, ‘I don’t wish to pry. I would advise you to beware of Lady Portland. She is a spiteful, heartless creature.’

  ‘Those are almost the same words that Harriet used to describe her.’

  ‘Lies fall from Lady Portland’s tongue as easily as the truth,’ he said.

  Isabella stared back at him for a long moment. ‘Thank you for the advice.’

  After a pause, Freddy remarked quietly, ‘You realize that it is only a matter of time before Hal finds you – I cannot lie to him about your whereabouts.’

  ‘I would not ask you to, but he may never wish to see me again.’

  Freddy shook his head. ‘No, he will still search you out – Hal is not a man who gives up. I hope matters between you can be resolved.’ She made no reply, so he said, ‘I’ll be off to the stables. Shall I take Dominic and keep him amused for an hour or two?’

  ‘That would be helpful,’ said Isabella, with a grateful smile. ‘It will cheer him up to be in your company – you are one of his new heroes, you know.’

  He laughed at this and went out to find Dominic. An hour and a half later, the house looked more welcoming. Fires had been lit in most of the rooms and, although the house still felt cold despite the warm late spring weather outside, there was enough cheer in her surroundings to make Isabella feel, physically at least, more comfortable.

  Mrs Johnson had produced tea and cake and, after Freddy had ensured that the horses had been attended to, he had busied himself chopping firewood. Stripped to the waist, he wielded the axe so effectively the pile of firewood at the side of the barn soon doubled in size. After returning to the house to wash and replace his shirt and coat, he was now taking Dominic on a tour of the house. Shrieks of laughter could be heard from upstairs as they played hide and seek, while Harriet and Isabella sat in the drawing-room.

  Isabella considered that the drawing-room could be very pleasant when the decorations had been replaced; it was not large, but it faced south and looked out on to the lawns.

  Two large windows let in the afternoon sun and threw a more cheerful hue on the dilapidated furniture and wall coverings. There were a few chairs, some worn rugs and two sofas arranged around the fireplace. A bookcase full of mildewed volumes ran along one wall, and card tables sat against the walls either side of the fireplace.

  The air of disuse and damp that permeated the room had not dissipated, but at least the fire created an impression of warmth.

  Now the initial bustle of their arrival was over, recent events were once again occupying Isabella’s thoughts. She relived continually what Lady Portland had said last night, as well as the image of her kissing Hal, but then she would recall Harriet and Freddy’s advice and her resolution wavered. Harriet was convinced of Hal’s innocence and Freddy, notwithstanding his natural allegiance to his friend, had warned her about Lady Portland. She could not banish Hal from her mind and could not escape the ever-growing conviction that she had made a terrible mistake.

  Harriet, who had been observing her niece’s troubled expression, said, ‘The repairs are progressing well, but it will be uncomfortable here for some time yet. The chimney in the hall is smoking badly.’ Harriet looked under her lashes at Isabella. ‘Have you considered what I said to you this morning?’

  ‘Yes,’ murmured Isabella.

  ‘And what are your conclusions?’

  ‘I am beginning to doubt Lady Portland’s words – even Freddy said she is an inveterate liar – but, if I was wrong to listen to her, it makes no difference now because the damage is done,’ said Isabella. ‘Hal must hate me for not giving him a chance to defend himself.’

  ‘You could ret
urn to London and ask Lord Bramwell yourself if you want to get to the truth.’

  Isabella looked at her aunt, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. ‘Do you think he would see me?’

  ‘I’m certain of it,’ replied Harriet. ‘He must be very worried about you, Isabella. Last night, you made no allowance for the constancy you have seen in Lord Bramwell. His love for you was no act, but if you still have doubts, consider how he rescued Dominic. If Lord Bramwell wanted to win a wager regarding you, he did not need to search for your son in those dreadful places. Hal did it because he loves you and Dominic, and for no other reason. He had nothing to gain by it.’

  The doorbell sounded in the distance and Harriet rose to her feet. ‘That must be Mrs Johnson’s niece. I’ll go and answer the door – it will take Johnson ten minutes to get there and he’s already struggling to prepare dinner.’

  Leaving Isabella in the drawing-room, she went into the hall and opened the door, but to her amazement, instead of Mrs Johnson’s niece, Sir Seymour stood before her.

  ‘Dinny!’ she exclaimed.

  ‘I had to come and find you, Harriet,’ he said with a smile, before stepping over the threshold to enfold her in a tenacious embrace.

  When she emerged, blushing and breathless, Harriet said, ‘Oh, this is a delightful surprise! How good you are to have travelled all this way, but there was no need – I would have returned soon.’

  Dinny, continuing to hold her in his arms, said, ‘I know, but I intend to have your answer today.’

  ‘You are most persistent, sir,’ she replied, her eyes twinkling. ‘Very well, having travelled nearly sixty miles, you shall hear it at once: I accept your proposal of marriage – that is, if you still want me.’

  ‘If I still want you?’ echoed Sir Seymour, indignant. He said no more, but he placed one finger under Harriet’s chin and kissed her again, this time more slowly while she remained within the circle of his arm.

  They stayed so for a time, until Harriet gave a contented sigh. ‘We should move out of the hallway, Dinny. The servants may come in, or even Isabella. She is upset and confused, but I think I am making progress.’