An Innocent Proposal

by Helen Dickson

  “What on earth have you done, Sir Charles, that makes Lord Dunstan scowl at you so whenever the two of you meet?”

  Louisa noted that suddenly he was no longer his usual, smiling, convivial self, that a seriousness had descended on him as he fixed his unreadable gaze straight ahead.

  “He bears me a personal grudge—and it is I who should be doing the scowling, Miss Divine. I am guilty of nothing where that gentleman is concerned. Any wrongdoing was done by him, not by me.”

  “Why? What on earth has he done that is so dreadful?”

  His face became grim, his eyes hard, and there was something so terrible in their fixed, unnatural brightness that Louisa felt her throat tighten. He spoke slowly, quietly and deliberately, each word enunciated.

  “He cheated me out of the woman I was to have married.”

  “Oh! Then should it not be you who bears the grudge, Sir Charles?”

  He grimaced, seeming not to hear her as he became immersed in some unpleasant thought. His lips compressed and his gloved fingers closed on the brim of his hat, crushing the edge, leaving Louisa in no doubt as to the depth of hatred that existed between himself and Lord Dunstan.

  “I-In what way did he cheat you?” Louisa asked nervously, for Sir Charles Meredith no longer resembled the man of a few moments before, all trace of the charming rake he portrayed to the world having vanished. The expression in his eyes had become ugly, his features contorted almost beyond recognition. The expression was fleeting and soon passed, but it left Louisa with a sinking feeling and a sense of regret that she had unwittingly prodded a wound that was still raw, seeping and extremely painful for both men.

  “He married her himself when my back was turned—when I was unable to do anything about it. But it backfired on him miserably, which was no more than he deserved,” he uttered fiercely. “However, it is all a long time ago and in the past.”

  “But not forgotten by either of you, it would seem?”

  “No, indeed. He did me a grave injustice and the day will come when I shall pay the almighty Alistair Dunstan back in full for what he did to me, Miss Divine. Some day,” he whispered, with an undertone of such savage force that Louisa fought a shiver of fear. “You’ll see.”

  Louisa’s curiosity was sharpened and she wanted to know more—there was so much he had not told her, but she was not to learn anything further about what had occurred between Sir Charles and Lord Dunstan, for at that moment James and Timothy, displeased to see her talking to Sir Charles, came to reclaim her.

  Trembling but managing a smile, shaken by the brief insight Sir Charles had given her into the feud that existed between himself and Lord Dunstan, an insight that left her feeling decidedly uneasy, she watched as he politely and abruptly excused himself to Timothy and James. Her brother was coldly contemptuous of the man’s frank admiration of her. “I do not like that man, Louisa,” James muttered, scowling at Sir Charles’s receding figure as he swaggered away. “You will do well to steer clear of him in the future.”

  “Yes, I intend to,” she replied absently, a memory of the cold, savage look of vengeance she had seen in Sir Charles’s eyes flickering in her mind. Their conversation had left her with a feeling of oppression and horror, and she experienced a certain surprise at his severe accusation against Lord Dunstan. Was it true? she asked herself. Had Lord Dunstan married the woman Sir Charles would have married himself? If this was the case, then surely the lady concerned would not have married Lord Dunstan had she not preferred him to Sir Charles?

  But Sir Charles had revealed that the marriage had gone miserably wrong for Lord Dunstan, and with that she could only conclude—as Timothy had suggested—that it had broken down and his wife had left him for someone else. She tried to envisage what both Lord Dunstan and Sir Charles must have suffered, and yet she had a distinct feeling that Lord Dunstan’s suffering had been the greatest. She did not know enough of what had transpired between them, nor did she know either of them well enough to defend one’s conduct against the other, but having just had an insight into Sir Charles’s character, which seemed to have a tendency to evil, she had no wish to know more.

  His manner, his way of speaking and his countenance she found repugnant in every degree. It had been enough to tell her that he did not possess any of the virtues that constituted a gentleman, and that he had many years of idleness and vice to atone for.

  James moped about the house in a state of deep depression as Louisa began preparing herself for the unpleasant occasion of dining at Dunstan House. She managed to persuade him to put off fetching the deeds to his estate from Surrey and presenting them to Lord Dunstan to pay off his debt until the following week, in order to give her time to retrieve his IOU.

  She reminded herself that if what Timothy had said was true—that Lord Dunstan attracted women like a magnet—then after her sharp rebuff at Mr Brewster’s bookshop, and seeing her with Sir Charles Meredith in St James’s Park, he might be angry and no longer interested in her.

  For her plan to succeed she must make him want her—want her to such an extent that he would be prepared to agree to her terms to possess her. And as the time drew near for her to ready herself for the evening in front of her—perhaps the most important evening of her life—apprehension began to give way to panic.

  She was undecided about which gown to wear, for Timothy had presented her with three to choose from, as well as several items of undergarment, telling her that his sister had been only too delighted to be of help.

  He had told Amelia that Louisa had arrived in London having absent-mindedly left her finest dresses behind in Surrey, and was mortified, on finding herself invited to an important event, to discover she had nothing to wear and unwilling to go to the expense of buying something new. Amelia had been only too happy to loan her some gowns.

  Louisa finally settled for one of deep crimson satin, by far the most alluring of the three. Its vivid colour and low-cut décolletage would be more in keeping with the occasion and the people she would be mixing with than the other two, which were in pastel shades and rather modest in design. She declined the wearing of even the smallest hoop to lift the dress, preferring instead to let the skirt fall softly from the waist.

  At first she had balked at the thought of accepting the clothes, but realising she had no choice, if she wished to succeed with Lord Dunstan, and that she was in no position to turn charity away, she began to dress, feeling as she did so her last remnants of pride melt like the morning mist beneath the sun.

  To add to the part, but without too much artifice, she applied just a little powder to her cheeks and a little salve to her lips, and, with skilful fingers, Alice helped her arrange her newly washed hair in an elaborate creation of glossy waves and curls, with three heavy ringlets dangling at the back, one of them resting on her bare shoulder.

  When she was ready she surveyed her appearance in the full-length mirror and saw her radiance reflected. She barely recognised herself, feeling transformed by the gown’s magnificence, and experiencing a sensuous pleasure in its satin softness. She flushed at her image. The gown, with its elbow-length sleeves, was bold and quite dramatic and extremely daring, its firm-fitting bodice cut low, and the fullness of the skirt emphasising her tiny waist and falling in luxurious shining folds to her slippered feet. She suspected it had not belonged to Timothy’s quiet, sheltered sister at all but to another, more worldly lady of his acquaintance, of whom she would prefer to remain in ignorance. However, she would for ever hold the lady in her debt if she managed to succeed in seducing Lord Dunstan.

  It was certainly not the type of gown she would normally have chosen to wear, she thought, sighing as she turned from the full-length mirror, but if she was to play a harlot she might as well look the part.

  They were to travel to Dunstan House in Timothy’s carriage and on being told by Alice of its arrival she took a deep breath and left her room, her skirts sweeping the stairs as she went down. She saw both her brother and Timothy waiting for her in
the hall and was fully aware of the impact her appearance would have on them. With Alice’s help she had been transformed from the pretty little country girl her brother had never troubled to look at into a striking young woman it would be difficult for anyone to keep their eyes off.

  When James and Timothy saw her their eyes opened wide in sheer amazement—Timothy’s with undisguised appraisal and James’s with shocked disapproval. He was unable to believe that the beautiful, sophisticated creature descending the stairs—showing enough of her bosom as to be positively indecent, and smiling only as one of London’s social butterflies knew how to—was his sister.

  “Dear Lord, Louisa!” he objected crossly. “That is hardly a suitable gown for you to wear—and I dare hardly ask where you acquired it.”

  “Then I wouldn’t, if I were you—in fact,” she quipped, throwing Timothy a knowing smile of gratitude from beneath her lowered lashes, “I’m not entirely sure where it came from either, nor do I wish to know. However, if an evening at Dunstan House is to be anything like an evening at Lady Bricknell’s, then I would say it is perfect for the occasion.” She faced Timothy, making him a sweeping curtsy. “What do you think, Timothy? Will I do?”

  Timothy’s brown eyes were twinkling. “You’ll do all right, Louisa. You look ravishing,” he assured her emphatically.

  “Well, if you insist on accompanying Timothy and I,” said James sullenly, “you must be introduced as my sister. I cannot permit you to go on calling yourself Miss Divine. It’s quite ridiculous.”

  Louisa gave him a cross look, in no mood to be bullied tonight of all nights. “Ridiculous or not, that is who I am to be if I am to enter the sort of company you keep. We will look foolish if you suddenly announce me as your sister, when only two nights ago I was someone else. And, anyway, I am not accompanying you by choice, James. I am merely coming along to make quite sure you do not dig us deeper into debt than we are already. If I see you so much as look at a card or dice table, I shall personally intervene and embarrass you to such a degree that you will not dare set foot in polite society ever again. Now, are we ready?” she said, pulling on her long gloves with a brusqueness that brooked no argument. “We don’t want to be late.”

  With a few quiet grumbles James followed Timothy and his sister out to the waiting carriage. Louisa climbed inside, about to embark on a mission as dramatic and fateful as any she had undertaken before or would ever do again.

  Seated across from Louisa, Timothy glanced at her, seeing that she appeared cool and collected and well schooled for what lay ahead of her, but behind her composed mask of elegance he sensed the fissures that lay deep.

  Ever since Louisa had left Lord Dunstan at Mr Brewster’s bookshop, and after seeing him again in St James’s Park, she had tried not to focus her mind on him, but now she was within minutes of facing him once more her panic increased and she could hardly believe what she was about to do. His name spun through her mind with a combination of loathing and dread, and she told herself she would rather sleep with the devil than Lord Dunstan.

  And yet the feelings she had experienced on the three occasions when they had met on her coming to London this time took some understanding; she had felt herself being drawn to him against her will by the compelling magnetism he seemed to radiate, and the memory of his smile and how he had looked at her, how his incredibly blue eyes had hardly left hers for a moment and the intimacy of his lazy gaze, made her tremble and heat course through her body.

  She was experiencing a great deal of nervousness at the disagreeable prospect of meeting him again, and as the carriage arrived at Dunstan House nothing could calm her mounting tension. Dunstan House was one of several fine mansions in Piccadilly. Backing onto Green Park, it was set in formal flower gardens, the high walls keeping the rumble of wheels and street cries at bay.

  With James in front of them Timothy took Louisa’s hand, feeling her fingers tremble. Passing through the doorway, they made their entry into the gilded interior. He bent close to her ear. “You look lovely,” he whispered reassuringly. “Are you still determined to go through with this—even though James is bound to find out? And don’t forget that anything connected with Lord Dunstan becomes instant gossip and spreads like wildfire. If you succeed, and when it’s discovered you are James’s sister, you will become the focus of a scandal. Can you cope with that?”

  “I have had four years of learning to cope, Timothy,” she replied with bitter irony. “Having to deal with relentless adversity has made me strong and taught me to hold my head high. I shall not let a scandal worry me unduly if I can hold onto Bierlow Hall.”

  She cast an eye over the assembled groups, knowing Lord Dunstan was present but unable to see him just then—and the prospect of seeing him, extremely conscious of the purpose of her being there, set her treacherous pulses racing. With a natural grace and a serene smile on her lips, she felt an odd sensation of unreality.

  As they entered further into the large, extremely grand and impressive marble hallway, with huge polished doors opening into sumptuously furnished rooms beyond, the sheer magnitude and beauty of the house seemed overwhelming and utterly breathtaking. It shone with the brilliance of hundreds of candles. Mirrors glowed with refracted light from the crystal and diamonds strewn around the bare throats of women. An army of exquisitely attired footmen in scarlet and gold moved among the guests, bearing silver trays balancing sparkling glasses of champagne.

  Breathing deeply and glancing at the assembled guests, Louisa suddenly found herself the object of dozens of pairs of eyes. It was as though she stood in a blazing light as everyone seemed to turn towards her. Every male and female, young and old, seemed to focus on her, some staring frankly while others looked at her with unconcealed curiosity. Many of the gentlemen looked with open admiration, and several of the ladies with barely concealed hostility, having already seen her at Lady Bricknell’s house two evenings earlier and perceiving her as the first really serious competition in months.

  To Louisa the company appeared to be very much the same as it had been at Bricknell House. There was a sense of glamour about the gathering, yet it seemed more subdued somehow, rather than a rout. But no doubt at some time later in the evening, when the liquor reached their heads and loosened any inhibitions they might possess, the guests would sit down to cards, by which time Louisa hoped she would have accomplished her purpose and they could leave.

  Suddenly her smile froze on her lips and she became oblivious to all else as her gaze became locked on a pair of exceptionally vivid blue eyes across the hall. Lord Dunstan was just emerging from a room with Lady Bricknell by his side. Without taking his eyes off Louisa, he murmured something to his companion, who followed his gaze and seemed to smile knowingly and with a good deal of satisfaction, before drifting from his side to speak to someone else—and Louisa would have been astonished to learn that Lady Bricknell’s invitations to James and Timothy to attend her supper and card parties, in the hope that eventually Louisa would appear, had borne fruit at last.

  With a growing sense of alarm and a general feeling of unease, Louisa watched Lord Dunstan start towards them with long, purposeful strides, seeming to grow larger as he neared, his eyes compelling. His black suit was immaculate and without a crease in the fabric stretched across his strong shoulders, his cravat and white silk stockings dazzling white. His presence was inescapable. He overshadowed the room and his guests parted to let him pass, his eyes searching Louisa’s face, his expression one of slight amusement and something which, to Louisa’s indignation, looked very much like triumph.

  Her flesh grew hot and a tremor passed through her now she was face to face with him once more. A smile of frank admiration gleamed in his eyes when he looked at her, his sternly handsome face stamped with nobility and pride, his powerful, muscular body emanating raw power and sensuality. At any other time, had any other man looked at her in the manner Lord Dunstan looked at her, she would have been extremely insulted and been tempted to slap his face. But, r
emembering the farce she was to play out to the bitter end, she swallowed her pride and gave him a ravishing smile, lighting her eyes with intelligence.

  “I’m so glad you could come, Mr Fraser—Mr Hacket,” Alistair said, and when he spoke the sheer, concentrated power of his presence was vividly apparent. His greeting embraced all three, but his gaze rested on Louisa. “And you, too, Miss Divine,” he murmured, fascinated by her, noticing how her face captured and absorbed the soft glow of the candles.

  There was a serenity of expression and stillness that hung about her like an aura, and seeing her again was an experience he had not sufficiently prepared himself for. She was beautiful, far more beautiful than any woman present, and she intrigued him, troubled him, and his instinct told him that hidden desires were at play beneath the thin layer of respectability. She was still yet watchful amidst the hive of gossip, her face settled in cool, unblinking remoteness, which distinctly whispered “Don’t touch’.

  “Is it your intention to exact revenge later, Fraser—to recoup what you lost to me two nights ago?”

  Unhappy and pale, James managed to smile, but there was no disguising his anxiety as he cast a swift glance at his sister, licking his lips nervously and saying, as if prompted, which did not go unnoticed by Alistair, “No, not this evening, Lord Dunstan. Tonight I intend to refrain from any form of gambling. I shall be a passive observer, nothing more.”

  Lord Dunstan nodded slightly, not really surprised. If the man was as impoverished as he suspected then he could ill afford to run up any more debts. He had met a lot of men like James Fraser—reckless young fools, prepared to risk everything over a game of cards or the throw of a dice. “Very wise, sir. Very wise.”