by Lucy Adams
“It is embarrassing even to speak of it,” she said softly, as the birds in the trees began to sing, making Bridgette smile. “But I will tell you regardless, even if you will think me foolish for finding such a thing upsetting.” She took in another breath and sighed heavily. “I discovered that he….” She trailed off, giving the impression that she found what was being said much too difficult to bear.
“The gentleman in question attended Madame Bereford’s house, after almost every social occasion,” Bridgette interrupted, her voice a little too loud given the topic of conversation. “Was that not so, Lady Madeline?”
She dared not look at Lord Chesterfield, her eyes on her friend Lady Madeline, who walked with disappointment in her face, her shoulders slumping.
“It is so,” Lady Madeline replied, heavily. “It was truly shocking, I must tell you.”
Lord Chesterfield said nothing in response, clearing his throat in such a loud manner that Bridgette had no other reason but to look at him in surprise.
“Do excuse me, Lady Callander, Lady Madeline,” he coughed, still rubbing a hand over his throat. “Yes, indeed, I can well understand why such a thing would astonish you utterly.” He tutted loudly as though that noise would make up for his lack of immediate response. “I am sorry to hear such a thing.”
“It is not a place I hope you attend, Lord Chesterfield,” Lady Madeline said, sounding a little reproachful. “That is something I cannot abide and will not abide.”
“No, no, indeed not,” Lord Chesterfield said, firmly shaking his head. “It is a truly horrific act for someone who seeks to court a lady of quality.”
“I am very relieved to hear it,” Lady Madeline replied, simpering up at Lord Chesterfield almost at once, pretending to be very glad to hear such sentiments from him. “That is not the sign of a true gentleman, as far as I am concerned.”
“Of course not!” Lord Chesterfield agreed, puffing out his chest. “I do hope that this lifts me a little higher in your estimation, Lady Madeline.”
Bridgette murmured something quietly to Lord Millerton and together, they fell back behind Lord Chesterfield and Lady Madeline.
“I should like to know a little more about you, certainly,” Lady Madeline said, jovially. “Do tell me about your estate and the like, Lord Chesterfield.”
Bridgette pulled Lord Millerton back a little more.
“We must allow Lady Madeline the time she requires to speak to Lord Chesterfield,” she murmured, as Lord Millerton nodded. “I am sure she will be able to find out about his ships.”
Lord Millerton let out a long breath and then, smiling softly at her, reached across and patted her hand. “You are quite right, Lady Callander,” he said, softly. “Lord Chesterfield and I are very well acquainted, you understand — to the point that I consider him my friend — and I find myself greatly troubled to consider that he might well be involved in something so disturbing, to the point that I feel like reaching across and shaking him hard, demanding to know what it is that he is doing.”
“Which is precisely why you cannot,” she told him, firmly. “We will reach the conclusion very soon, I am sure.” Smiling up at him, she felt herself relax just a little more as Lord Millerton smiled back at her. “For the moment, let us simply enjoy the walk together.”
Lord Millerton seemed to feel just as she did, for he began to stroll along beside her, a warm smile on his face and his gaze roving around the scene before them, taking everything in.
“You do know that I meant every word that I said to Lord Chesterfield, I hope?”
His words were quiet, a small gleam in his eye as he looked at her.
“I greatly appreciate that,” she answered, finding it difficult to quell the surge of joy that poured through her at his words. “I do hope that you are aware that I also feel the same?” She caught his gaze and held it, aware of how her cheeks flushed. “I — I have come to have a great regard for you, Lord Millerton.”
He stopped walking then, turning to face her, both hands holding hers. “My heart holds an affection for you, Lady Callander, that will not be denied,” he told her, honestly. “I find you to be the most extraordinary lady. You have such strength, such fortitude and yet such a great kindness within you that I almost revere you!” His smile was like honey on her tongue. “I hope, very soon, that I will be permitted to court you with all the fervor and eagerness that I desire.”
Bridgette made to say something, only to see, out of the corner of her eye, that Lord Chesterfield and Lady Madeline was returning to them. She regretfully pulled one hand from Lord Millerton’s and turned to face them, slipping her other hand through his arm.
“We thought to return,” Lady Madeline said, with a sharp look in her eye that told Bridgette that she had discovered what she had set out to find. “The sun is very hot and I find myself rather fatigued.”
“But of course,” Lord Millerton said, warmly. “Do come along, Lady Callander.”
Bridgette smiled up at him and began to walk with him, a little regretful that she and Lord Millerton had not been able to finish their conversation but knowing in her heart that there would come an appropriate time for them to do so - and that thought had her smiling for the remainder of their walk.
“Well,” Lady Madeline said, flopping back into one of Bridgette’s overstuffed chairs, “I have discovered a good deal about Lord Chesterfield’s ships. Once I began to ask about them and feigned a great interest, he could not stop speaking of it!” She rolled her eyes and Bridgette laughed, seeing Lord Millerton grin in response.
“What did he say about them?” Bridgette asked, as Lady Madeline reached for a restorative cup of tea. “Was he particularly detailed?”
“No,” Lady Madeline said slowly, stirring her cup. “He stated that he had been involved in such things for some years, but that recently he had added to his shipments to include something more.”
Lord Millerton exchanged a glance with Bridgette. “And did he state what such a thing was?”
Lady Madeline shook her head. “No,” she said, frowning. “He was somewhat evasive about that.” Her expression brightened. “Although I did ask him about whether or not his finances had made any improvement — given that I was considering courting him, of course — ” She laughed and Bridgette shook her head with mirth. “And he informed me that he has been doing exceedingly well, and even offered to show me his accounts, should I wish to confirm it!”
“Goodness,” Bridgette murmured, “he does appear to be very eager for you to accept his attentions.”
Again, Lady Madeline heaved a great sigh. “Indeed,” she said, plaintively. Her gaze turned towards Lord Millerton. “Might I ask what you thought of his reaction to the name of Madame Bereford?”
Lord Millerton grinned. “He did an admirable attempt at pretending he did not know the lady,” he said, as Bridgette nodded her agreement. “But I am certain that he does, in fact, know of her.”
Lady Madeline chewed her lip for a moment. “Now, what is it that we are to do next?” she said, looking from Bridgette to Lord Millerton. “Lord Chesterfield has told me the name of one of his ships, if that is of any use?”
“Oh?” Bridgette was immediately interested. “What is it?”
“‘The Rose’,” Lady Madeline said, with a wave of her hand, her features twisting. “Not at all romantic, which was what I am certain he was implying.”
Lord Millerton sucked in a breath at this, making Bridgette and Lady Madeline look towards him at once.
“‘The Rose’?” he repeated, as Lady Madeline nodded slowly, her eyes wide and lit with confusion. “I am sure that is the name of the ship that Madame Bereford spoke to myself and Lord Hearst about when we first visited her.” He shook his head, his fingers bridged as he settled his elbows on his knees, his eyes jumping from one place to the next as he considered what had been revealed. “She did not mean for us to remember it, of course, for it was merely a tiny remark that was meant to unsettle us, but now I am qui
te convinced that Lord Chesterfield is in business, or connected in some way, with Madame Bereford.”
Bridgette’s heart quickened, her excitement growing. “Then what are we to do?” she asked, as Lady Madeline’s hand stilled on the spoon that she had been stirring her tea with. “Are we to bring that information to him? Tell him what we know?”
Lord Millerton shook his head. “Certainly, it is time to bring this all to a conclusion,” he said, after a moment or two. “Our aim is to ensure that Lord Chesterfield tells us everything without any further prevarication.”
Bridgette’s hands tightened together as she saw a light appear in Lord Millerton’s eyes. “What do you intend to do?” she asked, quietly. “What can we do to ensure that we know everything?”
Lord Millerton paused for a few moments longer, before a tiny smile caught the corner of his mouth. “We are to play a trick on Lord Chesterfield,” he said, with a twinkle in his eye. “If we have Miss Sarah here, then can we not use her to our advantage?” His voice began to rise, his hands gesturing wildly as he became more and more animated. “She will be able to tell us how Madame Bereford conveys messages to those that she wishes to call upon her, for whatever reason.”
“But what if she has a special seal?” Bridgette interrupted, frowning. “What if —”
“We shall make it an urgent note,” Lord Millerton said, quickly, the gleam in his eye growing. “So that he will not have time to reply to her, will not have time to even question what she says. And when he appears, we will be there, ready to find out everything.” He looked at her again. “Everything,” he said again, all the more firmly. “That includes finding out the truth about your husband, about Lord Hazelton’s death and about Lord Chesterfield’s ships.”
A swell of hope crashed over her as she held his gaze, realizing that, very soon, the whole matter would be at an end. She would be freed of it all, returned back to the lady and the situation that she had once been.
But I do not want to be as I was, she thought to herself, quietly. I want Lord Millerton to be in my life, in my every single day.
And, from the look in his eyes, Bridgette was quite certain that there was a very good chance of what she wished for soon coming to pass.
“I will go and speak to Miss Sarah at once,” she said, rising to her feet. “Lady Madeline, please, continue to take tea for as long as you wish.”
Lord Millerton got up from his chair. “I will need to go and speak to the League, to ensure that everyone knows what we are to do next,” he said, a flicker of excitement in his expression. “I would hope that, come the morrow, we will have the note ready to be delivered to Lord Chesterfield.”
Bridgette threw out a hand, stopping dead in her tracks as an idea hit her square between the eyes.
“Wait!”
The room fell silent, with both Lord Millerton and Lady Madeline staring at her with matching expressions of astonishment.
“His ball,” Bridgette whispered, suddenly recalling that not only was Lord Chesterfield throwing a ball some two days away, it was a ball that she was invited to. “Are you to attend, Lord Millerton?” She watched his eyes widen as he realized what she meant, seeing the same excitement in his eyes as was in her heart.
“Yes, I am,” he answered, as Lady Madeline let out a squeak, her hands pressed tightly together. “You think we should have the message delivered to him then?”
Bridgette nodded slowly. “He will see us all present there and —”
“Therefore will not have any cause to suspect anything untoward from any of us when the note is delivered!” Lady Madeline exclaimed, getting to her feet quickly. “And all we shall have to do, thereafter, is to arrive at Madame Bereford’s establishment shortly after!”
Lord Millerton nodded fervently. “And I shall have some gentlemen from the League waiting outside Madam Bereford’s to ensure that neither Lord Chesterfield nor the Madame can escape.”
“Just ensure it is not Lord Pilkington,” Bridgette said, with a wry smile. “I am sure he has got far too many painful memories of the last time he stood outside a building!”
Lord Millerton laughed, reached out and pulled her close. “Wonderful, Lady Callander!” he exclaimed, his arms tight about her waist. “You are quite wonderful.” His lips grazed her forehead as he reluctantly let her go, his hands drifting away from her. “Then we have two days to ensure everything is prepared.”
“Two days,” Bridgette replied, aware of the warmth that whispered through her from his touch. “And then let us pray this will all be over.”
Chapter Twelve
“Might I say that you look quite beautiful, Lady Callander.”
Sebastian smiled at how quickly she reacted to his words, noting the blush to her cheeks, the demure way her eyes dropped to the floor. “I mean every word, Lady Callander, I assure you.”
“Thank you.” Her cheeks colored a little more but when she raised her eyes to his, they were filled with a deep tenderness that he felt push itself directly into his heart.
“You look very handsome indeed,” she told him, as he smiled at her. “I do hope you intend to sign my dance card?”
He held out his hand at once. “I would like to do so very much,” he told her, relieved that the waltz was still, as yet, untaken. “The waltz, Lady Callander?”
She nodded eagerly, and he wrote his name there quickly, as though someone might snatch it from his hand in a moment.
“And the quadrille,” he murmured, writing his name for a second time and wishing that he could take each and every free dance remaining, so that Lady Callander would not dance with another gentleman. “If there is time remaining for that.”
He looked up to see her eyes flare, only for her tiny, flickering smile to fade away, her gaze moving to something just behind him.
“Lady Callander!”
Sebastian froze, the sound of Lord Chesterfield’s overly cheerful voice sending a shudder through him. A shudder that had never once been there before he had begun to suspect that his acquaintance was involved in something untoward.
“Lord Chesterfield,” Lady Callander murmured, bobbing a quick curtsy. “Your ball is wonderful, if I might say so.”
Sebastian turned and smiled at Lord Chesterfield, forcing himself to be as relaxed and as assured as usual. “It is,” he agreed, as Lord Chesterfield grinned, his eyes dancing. “A most remarkable occasion, indeed.”
“I am delighted to hear you say so,” Lord Chesterfield replied, still smiling. “I am also thrilled that Lady Madeline is in attendance with you, Lady Callander!”
Sebastian tensed as Lady Callander looked back at Lord Chesterfield, her smile not even flickering. “But of course,” she cooed, sweetly. “Lady Madeline’s father is taken unwell and I knew just how much she wished to be present this evening. I was glad to have her join me.”
Lord Chesterfield chuckled, reaching for Lady Callander’s wrist without even asking if he might peruse her dance card. Sebastian forced himself to remain calm despite the fact that he wanted nothing other than to shove Lord Chesterfield’s hand away from Lady Callander. He could tell by the shock on Lady Callander’s face that she was horrified at what Lord Chesterfield had done. A gentleman did not seize a lady’s hand and lift it in order to steal her dance card without even so much as a by-your-leave! And yet that was precisely what Lord Chesterfield had done, treating Lady Callander with such disrespect that it sent a flurry of anger swirling through Sebastian’s veins.
“The country dance and the cotillion,” he said, with a broad smile, finally releasing Lady Callander’s hand. “And look, now, the country dance is almost at hand!”
“I thank you,” Lady Callander said, with what Sebastian knew was a forced smile. “Two dances is very kind of you, Lord Chesterfield.”
He laughed, but it did not reach his eyes. Instead, Sebastian was quite certain there was something of a darkness within his gaze. He wanted to step in, to refuse Lord Chesterfield to take Lady Callander out to the
dance floor but forced his lips to remain tightly closed, his eyes fixed to Lady Callander instead.
She was smiling gently at Lord Chesterfield, not even a hint of uncertainty in her eyes.
“I hope you have secured dances from Lady Madeline,” she said, a slight hint of teasing in her voice. “I should not like to take from her what should, I think, be hers first!”
Lord Chesterfield chuckled, the sound low in his throat. “She was the very first lady I spoke to,” he assured her, a slight dip of his head accompanying his words. “And yes, I have made quite certain that I have the dances I wish from her, although I must admit I wanted eagerly to take all of them for myself.”
Lady Callander smiled, whilst Sebastian felt a small unsettling kick in the pit of his stomach that both he and Lord Chesterfield evidently had the very same sentiment.
“Ah!” Lord Chesterfield exclaimed, without so much as glancing at Sebastian, “the country dance is upon us, Lady Callander! Shall we go?”
Sebastian gave Lady Callander a smile, inclining his head towards her. “I look forward to our dance, Lady Callander,” he said, hoping that she took some encouragement from his smile.
“I will make sure to return her to you,” Lord Chesterfield laughed, leading Lady Callander away before she could even say a word in reply.
For the entirety of Lord Chesterfield and Lady Callander’s dance, Sebastian felt as though he were being forced to walk over hot coals. He was almost in pain, his heart thumping furiously, sweat trickling down his back, his hands clenching and unclenching as he watched them.
Finally, the music came to an end and Sebastian forced himself to turn away from the dance floor, reaching for a glass of champagne so that Lord Chesterfield would not see him watching and waiting for the return of Lady Callander. Something twisted deep in his gut, something uncomfortable and unsettling. A warning, mayhap? Sweat broke out on Sebastian’s brow as he turned back towards the dance floor, instantly realizing that Lord Chesterfield had not, in fact, brought Lady Callander back to him, where he had intended to go, but rather was now walking with her away from him, towards the other end of the room.
