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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eyes. Judith quickly noticed this puzzling reticence and impulsively put out her hand.
‘Harriet, my dear,’ she said, in rising concern. ‘Please tell me what is wrong. I know that something dreadful must have happened to upset you so. Won’t you confide in me? I thought we were friends!’
Harriet was sick at heart. She wanted to tell Judith the whole story from the beginning but, by now, the tale had become so convoluted that she felt that it would sound quite absurd. In fact, she suddenly decided, it really was absurd and she reached forward and grasped Judith’s extended hands in her own.
‘Oh, Judith,’ she cried. ‘I’m so pleased to see you. You can’t think how much I have missed you.
Judith at once put her arms around the younger girl and hugged her. As she did so she spotted Sandford in the act of opening the door of the nearby estate office. To her amazement, he took one look at her and quickly closed the door again.
‘What is going on here? she said, thrusting Harriet away from her and, still holding her shoulders, gave her friend a firm shake. ‘Have you fallen out with Sandford? Is that what this is all about?
The office door re-opened immediately and Sandford stepped out, eyes averted, with a set of papers in his hand.
‘Ah, hello, Judith,’ he said, in a poor attempt at heartiness.
Judith registered both the tremor in his voice and the sight of Harriet’s flushed face at the same time. She took a deep breath.
‘Robert,’ she said resolutely, ‘you look awful. And Harriet looks awful, too. I can only conclude that the reason for such joint awfulness is that you have had a lover’s tiff—and I simply will not have it!’ And she stamped her elegant foot. ‘Mark carefully what I am doing, Robert!’
‘Not now, Judith!’ Sandford walked towards his sister-in-law with a warning frown, but Judith put up her crop and prodded it into his chest.
‘You don’t frighten me, Robert Hurst!’ she said defiantly. ‘I’m the one who tipped a bottle of ink over your head—remember?’
‘I remember, Judith,’ said Sandford drily, pushing aside the crop, but this is not a bottle-of-ink sort of problem.’ Harriet found her lips curving into an involuntary smile. ‘What sort of a problem is a bottle-of-ink problem?’ she asked, with an interested glimmer in her eye.
Sandford, with a swift intake of breath, took a step towards her, but Judith moved quickly to stand in front of the girl.
‘Leave my friend alone, Robert Hurst!’
Sandford lips twitched and he said, ‘But you don’t have a bottle of ink, dearest Judith—stand aside!’
‘Will someone please tell me what ink has to do with all of this?’ Harriet asked, now looking from one to the other in amused exasperation.
Judith gave her friend a quick, appraising glance.
‘Harriet,’ she said sweetly. ‘Would you be so kind as to go into the office and fetch me a bottle of ink? A large one, if you please!’
‘Judith!’ warned Sandford, but his eyes were now alight with laughter. He backed sideways towards the office door as Harriet, not sure of the point but perfectly willing to give her friend whatever assistance she required, moved swiftly in the same direction.
They collided in the doorway and Sandford, automatically thrusting out his hands to prevent Harriet from stumbling, found himself with his arms around her and it seemed to him, in that second, that the earth rocked.
Harriet had put up her own hands to save herself and now found herself pressed against him with her hands on his chest. An extraordinary sensation was sweeping through her body and she was acutely aware of Sandford’s laboured breathing. If I look up I am lost, she thought weakly and forced herself to maintain a steadfast interest in his waistcoat buttons.
‘Well, then?’ came Judith’s voice. ‘Surely this is where you kiss and make up?’
Harriet and Sandford sprang apart instantly. Harriet felt herself blushing to the tips of her toes, but did not fail to register that the viscount had refused to relinquish his hold on her hand and she herself, it seemed, had neither the strength nor desire to pull away.
‘Pretty dismal exhibition, I’d say,’ said Judith, with a wide smile. ‘I’ve still a good mind to …’ and her eyes swept around the office as though in search of something.
Sandford, still holding Harriet’s hand tightly, leaned over the desk and kissed his sister-in-law on the cheek.
‘Pax, Judith,’ he said quietly. ‘No need now, I promise. You win.’
‘No, Robert, this time you win,’ said Judith firmly, beaming at Harriet, and Sandford smilingly nodded his agreement.
‘I wish someone would tell me what the joke is,’ came Harriet’s plaintive voice. ‘It’s like being in some foreign country where one doesn’t understand the language.’
‘Well, it used to be a private joke, sweetheart,’ said Sandford, reaching out for her other hand and smiling into her eyes. ‘But we shall tell you!’
Sweetheart! Harriet couldn’t believe her ears. Sandford had called her sweetheart! Now what game was he playing at? She had to force herself to concentrate very carefully on his next words.
‘Well now,’ he began grandly, ducking away from Judith’s hand, ‘there was once a very spoilt little girl who had no playmates—ouch! That hurt!—for she always wanted—and usually got—her own way so no one would play with her. Her father—who was a very wise man …’ At this point Judith nodded her head vigorously and Sandford, his grin widening, continued ‘—arranged for his unpopular little daughter to take her lessons with two charmingly behaved—pax! I said Pax!—fairly well-behaved young gentlemen. Well, the sweet child tried her tricks out with these lads and discovered that they were totally immune to her foot-stamping and tears until, one memorable day, she threatened the older boy with a bottle of ink …’
‘Why?’ asked Harriet, at last beginning to comprehend. What had you—he refused to do?’
‘He had refused to get off his brother’s head!’ broke in Judith, laughing. ‘The two of them were scrapping—as usual—if I may say so—and Mr Penrose—our tutor—had left the room. Our instructions were to fill in some cities in our map-books and I had persuaded …’
‘Huh! Persuaded!’ Sandford chimed in. ‘Philip, who for some queer reason, was becoming increasingly besotted with this creature, had been doing her geography for weeks—she apparently being unable to distinguish north from south—and probably still can’t for all I know—missed! Anyway, he was patiently filling in her book as well as his own and I accidentally flicked ink over hers. Philip jumped me, I sat on his head and, well—the rest is history!’
‘Judith poured ink over your head?’ breathed Harriet in awe, unable to believe that her elegant, well-behaved friend could ever have acted in such a totally undisciplined manner.
‘Absolutely! Down my collar—over my hair, face, eyes—whole bottle—the lot!’ ‘What did your tutor do?’
‘Thrashed us both—Phil and me,’ Sandford answered dismissively, appearing to be deeply interested in counting her fingers.
‘But what about Judith?’ frowned Harriet, vainly attempting to extract her hands from his grasp.
‘That’s the point, you see,’ said Judith gently. ‘Both boys took the blame and said that I had been working the whole time—I was actually given a box of sugar plums—but I couldn’t eat them. I was so ashamed! I never had another such tantrum as long as I lived.’
‘Well, hardly ever,’ put in Sandford. ‘Jolly good sugar plums, too, as I recall.’
‘You gave them to the boys?’ Harriet smiled at Judith, who looked