Claiming The Chaperon's Heart. Anne Herries
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was in town the invitations would pour in, she would need to attend three affairs in an evening so as not to offend the eager hostesses.
Picking up a neat cream-coloured envelope addressed to Lady March in a hand she did not recognise, Jane slit the seal and took out the piece of paper inside. She frowned as she read the few lines written on the single sheet.
Madam, Lady March,
Forgive me for writing when you do not know me, but I have been informed that my ward, Miss Amelia Bellingham, is to stay with you in town. I would ask that you let me know when it is convenient to call on you both.
Yours sincerely,
Paul Frant.
Brief and to the point, not particularly friendly, Jane thought as she scanned the lines again. She had not been aware that there was any other guardian than Mrs Bellingham. As Melia’s father’s widowed sister-in-law, she would surely be the proper person to have charge of the girl, Jane thought, but obviously Lord Frant—whoever he might be—thought differently.
It was slightly concerning, because the tone of the letter was distinctly cool. In fact, she would say that he’d been annoyed when he wrote the letter—only yesterday. She wondered if Melia knew of the gentleman and decided to ask when she came down for tea. Meanwhile, she continued to open her letters, discovering two more invitations for balls and one to the theatre from a close friend of her mother’s.
Major Harte was some years older than Jane, but he had taken a fancy to her the last time she was in London and she’d received more than one proposal from him. As she knew he was a widower with two daughters under fifteen and needed a wife to keep them in order, Jane understood his persistence, but always gave him the same answer. She was not yet ready to remarry...
She had just finished sorting her letters into piles, those needing replies in one pile and the others in another, when the door opened to admit the housekeeper carrying a tray. Melia followed her in and tea was poured.
‘I thought we would dine at home this evening,’ Jane told her. ‘It is the only night we shall be at home, because we are invited out almost every night for our entire stay, and will go from one to the other like bees gathering pollen from flowers.’
Melia laughed and looked delighted. ‘Could we visit the duchess this afternoon? I do so like your mama, Jane.’
‘She informed me that she would be out but would visit us tomorrow afternoon and expected us to dine at night. What we might do is visit my dressmaker and milliner, Melia. I think you might like some new clothes. Your own are pretty, but not quite as stylish as the fashions in town.’
‘My aunt gave me fifty pounds, but I’m not sure how many clothes that will buy...’ she said doubtfully and Jane smiled.
‘Your aunt told me to have your dressmaking bills sent to her, my love. She would not expect you to spend your pin money on clothes. No, we shall have your measurements taken, and see if there is anything already made up that might fit you with some alteration.’
‘Do you think there will be?’ Melia looked anxious. ‘At home it takes ages to have dresses made up.’
‘Oh, I am sure Madame François will be able to accommodate us sooner than that,’ Jane assured her. ‘She has many girls working under her and takes no more than a day or so to complete a simple gown—and often there is a half-finished dress from a cancellation that we may have finished to your specification if you care for it.’
‘Oh, good,’ Melia said, excitement rising. ‘How soon may we go?’
‘We shall have our tea and some of these delightful sandwiches and biscuits Mrs Yates has brought us, and then we may fetch our bonnets. I shall have the carriage sent for in one hour...’ She got up to ring the bell, then remembered the annoying letter.
‘Do you know of a Paul Frant?’ she asked. ‘Is that the person who inherited your father’s estate?’
‘Lord Frant, yes...’ Melia looked wary, her hand suspended as she was about to eat a tiny cucumber sandwich. ‘He is in India I think...’
‘According to the letter I received this morning, he must be in England as he has learned that you were coming to stay with me here—he has asked to meet us both at our earliest convenience. Did you know he was returning?’
‘I didn’t know when,’ Melia said a little guiltily. ‘He sent a letter but it was vague. I did not see why it should interfere with my plans...’
‘No,’ Jane replied, but she wasn’t sure. Melia was underage and if her guardian had chosen to withhold permission for this visit he might have done so: Melia had clearly chosen to ignore his letter. ‘What did he ask you to do?’
‘Oh, he spoke of my returning to my father’s estate and said that he would provide a chaperon for me,’ Melia said with a shrug of her pretty shoulders. ‘However, his meaning was vague, and I had already arranged this visit. If he wishes me to live at Willow House with a chaperon he must arrange it with my aunt—that is the proper way, do you not agree? After all, I know nothing of Lord Frant—or this lady he wishes to foist on me.’
‘It would certainly be best for him to speak to both you and your aunt, to ascertain what your wishes are,’ Jane agreed, but she felt slightly anxious on her young friend’s behalf, for she surely did not wish to antagonise the man who might do something for her if he chose. Not that a dowry would signify if she took Will, because he could well afford to provide for his wife.
‘Oh, well, I shall write this evening,’ Jane said, dismissing the matter. ‘Finish your meal, Melia, and then we’ll change and visit my dressmaker. I wrote her that we might so she will be expecting us...’
* * *
‘Oh, what a pretty little thing it is that you bring me to dress...’ Madame Françoise cooed over Melia’s trim figure. ‘She ees perfection, no?’
‘Yes, I believe Melia will take very well,’ Jane said. ‘Particularly, I think, if she is seen first in Society wearing one of your creations, Madame. Do you have anything at all that she could wear almost immediately?’
‘Yes, I believe perhaps...there is the blue silk, Michelle—and the yellow net... Fetch them quickly!’ Madame Françoise clapped her hands and the seamstress hurried to obey.
In all, four half-finished gowns were produced. They were orders that had been cancelled or changed after the work had begun and Madame was delighted to do the small amount of work needed to finish them to Miss Bellingham’s liking. Melia was charmed with what she saw and easily pleased, agreeing to the four gowns and agonising over a wealth of materials, styles and trimmings until Jane declared it was enough for one day and assured Madame Françoise that she would receive more visits until an adequate wardrobe had been supplied.
Riding home in the carriage with Jane later that afternoon, Melia was excited and talked endlessly of the gowns they had ordered until at last she grew a little quiet, and then looked at her hostess anxiously.
‘You do not think I have been too extravagant?’ she asked in a small voice. ‘I have very little money of my own and my aunt has already been generous...’
‘Mrs Bellingham is not a poor woman,’ Jane said. ‘She assured me that she wanted you turned out in fine style, Melia. I should not worry if I were you. I shall pay for everything, and your aunt will reimburse me in good time.’
‘You are both very good to me,’ Melia said with the shy smile which Will’s sister thought was probably what had drawn him to her. She had taken to the young girl and thought that if he did marry Melia he would most likely be very happy, for she had a sunny nature—even if she did bend the truth a little now and then.
It was as they approached Will’s town house that they saw a man leaving it. He paused for a moment in the sunshine, looking about him in a manner that Jane could only describe as impatient, and then strode off in the opposite direction. She did not have long to wonder who it might have been for they encountered