Regency High Society Vol 1: A Hasty Betrothal / A Scandalous Marriage / The Count's Charade / The Rake and the Rebel. Mary Brendan
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his lordship reproachfully. ‘See how badly your ‘'best behaviour” affects my play!’
Harriet burst out laughing and bent to retrieve the fallen chessmen. ‘I believe you did that on purpose, sir,’ she chuckled. ‘I was near to victory, you must concede.’
Beldale regarded her fondly. ‘Worth a dozen defeats to see you laugh again,’ he said warmly. ‘And now I demand to know who has been filling your head with this nonsense!’
Harriet was silent for a moment then, turning to look him squarely in the eye, she said, ‘I’m afraid that Sandford and I have ‘'come to cuffs” yet again, sir. He disapproves of my behaviour and—and—well, he has given me to understand that others might find it equally unacceptable. I was merely trying to m-modify …’
She caught his expression and broke into a grin. ‘Well, if you will make me laugh, how can I possibly hope to improve?’
‘Improve at your peril, my girl!’ exclaimed his lordship, horrified at the prospect. ‘If that young fool can’t recognise a diamond when he has one in his hand, then he must resign himself to wearing paste! And I shall tell him so myself!’
‘Please don’t,’ interrupted Harriet hurriedly. ‘He would dislike above all things to know that I had been discussing him with you—and you must allow that he has had a great deal to contend with of late. I really do intend to try to conduct myself in the most dignified manner when I am with him but—I promise to save my worst behaviour for your lordship!’
‘Excellent!’ answered Beldale, with a delighted smile, ‘Although I am bound to point out that the contemplation of your most dignified manner is enough to send one into the wildest hysterics!’
Ruefully, Harriet had to agree, although privately vowing that she would still endeavour to be on her very best behaviour that evening.
She dressed with care, choosing a pale turquoise crepe gown in the Grecian mode, with its gently draped bodice gathered under the bosom and its skirt flowing softly to her ankles. She elected to wear no jewellery, other than the obligatory ring, not wishing to be reminded of that other eventful occasion, and Rose, still bemoaning the absence of suitable adornment, brushed her mistress’s bright locks into their new style and wove a silver ribbon through them. The result was one of simple but charming elegance.
Sandford, too, paid special attention to his toilette, discarding several neckcloths in his efforts to achieve the perfect knot. Kimble stood in silent reproach as, one after another, the snowy silk cravats were hurled aside until, breathing heavily, the viscount pronounced himself satisfied.
Kimble then helped his master into his exquisitely cut tailcoat, adjusting the lapel fronts carefully over the white silk waistcoat and smoothing away an imperceptible crease on the broad shoulders. Grudgingly pleased with the result, the valet stood back and gave a brief nod.
The viscount eyed him sourly for a moment, then emitted a deep chuckle. ‘Oh, I’ve been a terrible trial to you this past week, haven’t I, Kimble?’ he said, with a sheepish grin. ‘Accept my apologies, dear man—and have a tankard on me!’
He proffered a coin, which Kimble accepted with alacrity, although his countenance clearly displayed his affront at his master’s suggestion.
‘You know that I never frequent the local hostelry, my lord,’ he said loftily. ‘However, I shall be pleased to share a bottle of wine with Mr Rothman at your lordship’s expense.’
He passed Sandford his fobs and signet ring and watched, eagle-eyed, as the viscount pinned a diamond stud into the folds of his cravat. Then he handed him his top hat and evening cloak and, opening the door for his master to leave, he executed his very correct bow.
Sandford, descending the stairs, perceived that Harriet had forestalled him and, to his intense irritation, he saw March step forward, take the cloak from her arm and carefully arrange it about her shoulders. Neither did he miss her smile of grateful thanks to the young footman, who retreated to his appointed place with what Sandford, gritting his teeth, could only describe as a fawning expression.
Great start, he thought wryly, shepherding the impassive Harriet out to the waiting carriage and handing her into her seat. He had been hoping for a more auspicious beginning to the evening, conscious that this could be his last chance to reinstate himself into her good books.
Seating himself opposite her, he leaned forward and smilingly complimented her on her appearance, which admittedly he had caught sight of only briefly before March’s swift attentions.
She inclined her head in acknowledgement, but did not meet his eye, seeming to find the passing view of greater interest.
‘I trust that you will find some reserves of your usual good humour before we arrive at Westpark,’ he said uncomfortably. ‘Judith will expect us to have—recovered from our—lover’s tiff, or whatever she called it!’
‘I can assure you that I am perfectly aware of my part, my lord,’ she replied woodenly, clasping her gloved hands together in her lap. ‘You will excuse me, however, if I save my performance until we have an audience. You need have no qualms as to the propriety of my behaviour—I shall be everything that is correct, I promise you.’
‘Oh, good God, Harriet!’ cried Sandford, flinging himself back into his own corner in exasperation. ‘How long do you intend to keep this up?’
Unmoved, she regarded him in silence, her green eyes inscrutable. ‘Only for a few more days, I hope, my lord,’ she said, again without expression. ‘My grandfather cannot be far from Beldale now and I hope that I can prevail upon him to remove me to some—other accommodation—until he is ready to return us to his own home.’
Sandford stared in hopeless frustration at her rigid countenance. ‘Oh, that will create a fine impression of our hospitality, won’t it?’ he said sarcastically. ‘I’m sure it will please my parents wonderfully!’
Harriet’s face flamed resentfully and she glared at him from under her dark lashes.
‘Oh, a veritable hit, my lord!’ she said scornfully. ‘Although it will probably come as a great surprise to you to know that neither Lord William nor Lady Caroline seem to share your low opinion of me …’
‘Stow it, Harriet,’ he cried hoarsely, his own cheeks flushing, ‘you know damned well that I don’t have a low opinion of you!’
‘It has improved, then, since yesterday, my lord?’ she asked witheringly. ‘For I seem to remember that you thought me totally beyond the pale only twenty-four hours since!’
‘I’m not proud of what I said yesterday,’ he exclaimed heatedly. ‘I was angry—you know I was angry!’
‘It appears to be a particular failing of your lordship’s,’ she rejoined. ‘However, perhaps you could manage to hold yourself in check for the next few hours, as I see we have arrived at our destination. If I could have your hand, my lord?’
Sandford was obliged to stifle the retort that was forming on his lips and, inwardly seething, he sprang out of the carriage to give her his hand.
Judith swept into the hall to welcome them. Harriet was delighted to observe that her friend seemed to have put off her blacks for good, for she was wearing a most becoming gown of lavender silk. The two girls devoted the next few minutes to comparing styles and laughingly exchanging extravagant compliments with one another.
Sandford, handing their cloaks to the waiting Finchley, quickly registered the return of Harriet’s normal lively disposition and, in spite of the earlier setback, was once more determined to take full advantage of any opportunity that might arise.
‘Come along into the drawing-room,’ smiled Judith. ‘Mother and Charles are waiting for us …’
‘Charles is dining with us?’ asked Sandford, in some surprise.
Judith nodded, a slight blush staining her cheeks. ‘The more the merrier, wouldn’t you say?’ she said, as they entered