Belle glanced away, fighting back tears. "I wish I knew," she said with painful honesty. "It wasn't just the bump on the head; it was . . . I don't know, so many things. I thought I'd been betrayed, and that Marcus had been the one to do it. I couldn't bear that, Pip, I couldn't."
Pip digested that, intrigued by Belle's confession and the fact she'd referred to the earl by his given name. Knowing Belle's rigid sense of formality, Pip thought the slip highly significant. "Why should it hurt so much that it was Colford?" she asked, striving for indifference as she folded her arms across her chest. "I thought you couldn't abide the man."
Belle shrugged, still feeling perilously close to tears. "In the past weeks I have come to know him better, and I've decided he's not quite the villain I once took him for," she admitted. "In many ways he reminds me of Alex—both honorable and strong—and I know I have insulted him past all forgiveness. I only wish . . ."
"Wish what?"
"That I could make it up to him," Belle concluded, her eyes filled with misery as she met Pip's gaze. "I know he will accept my apology when I make it, but that still doesn't make it right. There must be something I can do to repay him."
"What?" Pip was intrigued.
"I don't know," Belle admitted, her jaw firming as her heart filled with resolve. "But I shall think of something, Pip. If it is the last thing I do, I shall think of something."
Seven
J ulia and Georgiana were both cordial if somewhat cool when Belle appeared for breakfast the following morning. They were dressed to go out, and when Belle inquired as to their direction, Georgiana said, "We'd thought to call upon Lord Colford to formally offer him our thanks for his efforts on your behalf. We shall naturally understand if you choose not to join us."
"That is very good of you, Cousin." Belle forced herself to smile despite her pain. "It is probably best if I do not venture too far from home my first day out of the sickbed. However, I shall be writing his lordship a note conveying my thanks and my deepest apologies, and I trust you will deliver it for me."
Her calm request brought a confused scowl to Georgiana's face. "You are apologizing?" she asked, her brows meeting over her nose as she surveyed Belle.
"Mmm." She pretended to busy herself buttering her toast. "From what Pip said, I made a dreadful cake of myself, although truth to tell, I scarce remember any of it. I trust I didn't make a horrible scandal?"
Georgiana didn't know what to think. She'd been about to take the girl to task for her behavior, but she could hardly do that if she hadn't even been in her right mind. "You remember nothing?" she pressed suspiciously.
"Only that I was getting in my carriage one moment and fighting off attackers the next," Belle said, not untruthfully. "As I said, it is all very hazy, but I do recall waking up in a strange room and not knowing where I was. I asked for my mother, didn't I?"
"Yes," Georgiana replied slowly, thinking that perhaps she'd been a trifle hard on the poor child. "I thought you were all about in your head, and I didn't know what to do."
"Yes, that must have been it," Belle agreed with a nod. "You have figured it out exactly, ma'am. How clever of you."
"Yes, it is, rather." Georgiana preened. Of course Belle hadn't meant those awful words she had hurled at the earl, she decided complacently, raising her cup of tea to her lips. It was an accident. A knock on the head like that would be enough to rattle anyone.
"And how are you, dearest?" Belle next turned her attention to Julia, who'd remained silent through the exchange. "I hope you are recovered from your shock?"
"Yes, Cousin," Julia answered warily. Like Georgiana, she was more than willing to give her cousin the benefit of the doubt. "When Mr. Gilford and Mr. Shipfield first explained what happened, I fear I was quite out of charity with them. Still, all seems to have turned out well."
"Yes, Pip informs me that you and Mr. Flanders have mended your differences. Have you?" Belle nibbled at her eggs as she asked the question.
"We have." Julia's chin came up proudly as she faced Belle. "In fact, I have written Simon, telling him of my feelings, and I am sure once he knows my heart is engaged, he will give Toby permission to marry me."
Belle dredged up a casual shrug. "That is your choice, my dear, although I am sure you will understand if I am less than thrilled with the gentleman at the moment."
Julia blushed prettily and averted her eyes. "Yes, well, that was rather naughty of him," she conceded, toying with her fork. "But I read him a dreadful scold, and he has promised never to do anything like that again."
"That is reassuring. Does this mean I can safely traverse our city streets without fear of being carried off like one of the Sabine women?"
"Belle!"
"Cousin!"
It seemed neither Julia nor Georgiana appreciated Belle's wry humor, and she quickly hid a grin. "I was only asking," she said, striving for an innocent expression. "After what happened, you cannot blame me for wondering."
"What happened was a most unfortunate incident," Georgiana said, fixing Belle with a stern scowl. "That it hasn't yet landed us in the scandal broth is nothing short of miraculous, and I think it would be best if you refrained from mentioning it again. Ever," she added, lest Belle fail to take her meaning.
"Yes, Georgiana," Belle murmured, deciding for the moment that discretion was the better part of valor.
The tactic worked, and they were able to continue the rest of the meal in relative peace. Despite their concern over Belle, Julia and Georgiana had attended a ball the previous night, hoping it would help stave off rumors in the event that neither Mr. Gilford nor Mr. Shipfield could be trusted to hold their tongues. They left early, of course, and much to their relief, no one in the ton seemed any the wiser.
"Oh, that reminds me," Georgiana said, as she was finishing her tea. "The marquess of Berwick asked after you. He seemed quite upset when he heard of your accident, and asked if he might pay you a visit. I said I'd let him know when you were better."
"That was good of him," Belle said, thinking that his lordship had been paying her a great deal of attention of late. She was beginning to suspect he was courting her, and she wondered how far she should let it progress before gently hinting him away. She'd learned early it was best to nip such things in the bud, before the gentleman involved became overly confident.
Following breakfast, Belle quietly excused herself and retired to her study to write her apology. After several frustrating attempts, she gave up, realizing a prettily worded plea for forgiveness wouldn't suit. Much as she dreaded it, she knew the only honorable solution was to face Colford and personally apologize for her spiteful words. Once she admitted that, the rest was surprisingly easy, and she quickly penned a strained request that he call upon her at his earliest convenience. She only hoped he'd forgiven her enough to accept.
"Colford? I was wondering if I might have a word with you."
Marcus glanced up from his morning paper to find Toby standing in the doorway, his plump face set in the solemn lines he was beginning to recognize. Since the kidnapping, his heir had matured beyond all recognition, and while Marcus deplored the means, he could not fault the results. At last Toby seemed to be taking life, and himself, seriously.
"Certainly, Toby," he replied, setting his paper aside with a smile. "What is it? Are Mrs. Larksdale and Miss Dolitan early?"
"No, it's not that," Toby said, advancing into the library with a purposeful stride. "They will be here shortly, however, and I thought it would be best to have this matter settled between us before they arrive."
"I see," Marcus said, thrusting a hand through his hair and brushing the dark red locks back from his forehead. "That sounds rather ominous. May I ask what it is we are settling?"
Toby lowered himself onto the red leather club chair facing Marcus. "I have been thinking," he began carefully, "and I've decided I want more from life than to sit about waiting for a pair of dead man's shoes. No offense intended, my lord," he added with an anxious look.
> "None taken," Marcus assured him, amused by Toby's concern. "I'm well aware you are my heir and will inherit should anything happen to me."
"Thing of it is, sir, when I was free . . . that is, not engaged to be married, living 'pon my expectations was fine. But now that I'm to be wed, I realize I shall need to provide for my wife and family, and I really cannot do that standing about waiting for you to catch a chill."
Marcus reached up to rub his chin, taking care to hide the shock he felt at Toby's blunt confession. In the past year he'd dropped any number of hints that Toby take over one of the few remaining estates, only to have his hints ignored. That he was now pressing for such responsibilities was indeed encouraging.
"What did you have in mind?" he asked, already reviewing the possibilities in his mind.
Toby ran a nervous finger around the collar of his neckcloth. "Actually, Julia had a suggestion I thought rather interesting. Her cousin has a small farm in Surrey that she has promised to Julia, and I thought we might live there. It's small, as I say, but with careful management—"
"No."
Toby frowned at Marcus's curt response. "Well, I don't mean to manage it myself," he said, obviously offended. "There's already a capable fellow there, and I see no reason to replace him. Besides, I shall be too busy writing to worry about soil and all that other rot."
"I said no!" Marcus snapped, his eyes flashing silver as he leapt to his feet. "You're not taking a damned thing from that woman, and that is final!"
For once, Toby understood Marcus without further explanation. "I know you're still hipped with Miss Portham, and can't say as I blame you," he said with newfound maturity. "But all of that is beside the point. I wasn't asking your permission, my lord, I was informing you of my plans."
Marcus flushed with mortification and resumed his seat. "I didn't mean to snap," he said, selecting his next words with care. "It is just that I don't feel it's necessary for you and your bride to live off Miss Portham's generosity. Granted our holdings have been depleted over the past few years, but we aren't yet reduced to penury. The estate outside of York is almost free of debt. Perhaps you and Julia could settle there?"
"Thought of that," Toby answered calmly, "but we decided it is too far from the city. Julia wishes to be near her brother and Miss Portham, and I would like to be close enough to pop into town to meet with my publisher and other writers."
"Your publisher?"
"Didn't I tell you?" Toby preened with pleasure. "I sold some of my poems to a publisher who is interested in seeing more of my work. Not a great deal of money, but a start. I shall dedicate my first volume to Julia, of course."
"Of course," Marcus echoed, shamed as he recalled his indifferent dismissal of Toby's work. "Congratulations, Toby; I am very proud of you."
"I'm using my own name," Toby admitted, feeling greatly daring. "Scribbling's respectable now that Byron has come along, so you needn't think anyone will object. Although I shall take a nom de plume if I decide to write a novel," he added, lest his very proper cousin take exception.
"Whatever pleases you," Marcus replied, vowing to be more understanding of Toby's ambitions. "In the meanwhile, I wish you'd reconsider your decision to live at Miss Dolitan's farm. I would not have you accused of marrying her for her money."
"Posh, what do I care for tattle?" Toby dismissed Marcus's words with an indifferent shrug. "Besides, wasn't you telling me only a few months ago that we'd have to make an advantageous marriage if we was to save Colford?"
The novelty of having Toby throw his own words back in his face wasn't at all to Marcus's liking. "I said I would have to make an advantageous marriage," he corrected with an embarrassed grumble, the tips of his ears growing red. "I didn't mean you were expected to sacrifice yourself for the estate."
"Rot, you said quite clearly that instead of languishing after fashionable impures, I ought to devote myself to obtaining a well-dowered bride! You said 'twas my duty to bring a bit of money into the family coffers instead of squandering it."
Marcus slumped lower in his chair, his chagrin increasing as he recalled the conversation. He'd just finished meeting with his solicitor, and he'd been feeling rather grim. The bill for a new bonnet for Toby's chéri ami had been the final straw, and he'd lashed out at the younger man. At the time he'd felt justified in his anger, but now he was aware of a strong feeling of distaste. He heaved a gusty sigh, his eyes dosing in weariness. "Toby, I—"
"Besides," Toby interrupted, "it's not as if Julia was as wealthy as her cousin. I could see your objections then. Dashed awkward marrying so wealthy a lady . . . unless one's pockets were just as deep," he added with a thoughtful frown.
Marcus's expression grew even bleaker. "Yes," he said at last, "unless one was of equal wealth, such a marriage would be most awkward."
"Well, there you are." Toby nodded wisely. "But since Julia ain't an heiress like Miss Portham, there's no reason why we shouldn't accept her offer." When Marcus didn't respond, he leaned closer. "Come, my lord, if Julia wasn't related to The Icicle, you'd have no objections to our living there, would you?"
The appearance of the butler announcing guests spared Marcus the necessity for answering, but the question was much on his mind during the visit. Both Mrs. Larksdale and Julia were profuse in their gratitude, thanking him again and again for all he'd done for Belle.
"Naturally she is most appreciative, but unfortunately she still isn't able to venture out of the house," Georgiana said, extracting the letter Belle had given her from her reticule and handing it to the earl. It had been sealed with a circlet of red wax, which prevented her from stealing a peek at its contents, vexing her no end. "She asked that I give you this."
Marcus accepted the letter quietly, keeping his expression controlled as he scanned the missive. When he was finished he refolded it and tucked it into the inside pocket of his green velvet jacket. He could see the curiosity on their faces, but remained stubbornly closemouthed. Instead he turned to Julia, his manner friendly as he asked if she'd written her brother.
"Yes, but of course, it is far too early to expect a reply," she answered, nervously slipping her hand into Toby's comforting clasp. "Would—would you like his direction, my lord?"
"That is an excellent idea, Miss Dolitan," he told her with a warm smile. "As Toby's nearest male relation, I suppose it shall fall to me to assure him that Toby's intentions are honorable. Are they puppy?" He shot Toby a teasing look.
"Most honorable, my lord," Toby assured him, carrying Julia's hand to his lips for a brief kiss.
They continued chatting pleasantly, and all too soon it seemed the ladies took their leave. Toby accompanied them to their carriage, and the moment the door closed behind them, Marcus took the letter from his pocket and reread it.
My Lord,
I know you must hate me, and after all that I have said and done, I cannot find it in my heart to blame you. My words, like my actions, are beyond forgiveness, and I will not insult you by asking for that which I so clearly do not deserve.
I would, however, request you call upon me at my house this afternoon so that I might make my apologies as I made my hateful and untrue accusations, in your presence. It is the only way I can possibly hope to atone for what I have done, and I humbly ask you to grant me this favor.
Sincerely,
Arabelle Portham
Marcus returned the letter to his pocket, his expression harsh as his pride waged war with his conscience. On the one hand he told himself it would be better for all concerned if he mended his fences with Miss Portham. It seemed certain Toby and Miss Dolitan would be making a match of it, and he'd learned long ago that it never did for families to be at odds with each other. Besides, after the two young lovers were wed, it was unlikely he and Miss Portham would need to see much of each other. He need only suffer her company for a few weeks, and then they would never see each other again, except socially.
On the other hand, he reminded himself grimly, she'd called him a fortune hunter.
She'd thrown his debts in his face and then accused him of the most heinous crime imaginable. How could he possibly forgive her for that?
He was no closer to resolving his painful dilemma when Toby returned, accompanied by Lord St. Ives.
"I thought I'd find you here," Alex said, greeting him with a smile. "Have you forgotten the opposition is debating today? We'll need to hurry if we mean to be there in time to hiss and shout them down as befits a proper Tory."
His friend's teasing words brought a reluctant grin to Marcus's face. "For shame, sir, you know we Tories are beyond such base behavior," he drawled, attempting to match Alex's lighthearted tones. "I fear your lady wife has had a detrimental effect upon your reasoning, to say nothing of your party loyalties."
"Indubitably, but you did warn me how it would be when I set out to marry her," Alex replied, the fatuous look on his face making it obvious he was more than satisfied with the situation.
Toby shifted uneasily. All this talk of Lady St. Ives reminded him of last year's unpleasantness, and his own innocent role in the scandal. Much as he would have liked to creep from the room, Toby decided it was time to pay the piper. Now that he was an engaged man, it was time he began standing up for himself. He nervously cleared his throat
"My lord, I was wondering if I might say something."
St. Ives glanced up, surprised by the solemn note in Toby's voice. "Certainly, Flanders," he said pleasantly. "What is it?"
"It was most improper of me to embroil you in that foolish wager last year," Toby said, standing ramrod-straight. "I had no right to drag Miss Lambert's name through scandal by betting you couldn't get her to attend the prince's ball with you, and I ask that you forgive me."
His words shocked both Alex and Marcus, and they exchanged startled looks. "You admit . . . finally that you were wrong?" Alex was the first to recover from his surprise.
Belle Of The Ball Page 10
