The Belle Dames Club Page 18

  ‘Oh heavens!’ exclaimed Lady Wyckenham, her cheeks growing pale at the thought. Lady Gaunt gave a tight little smile.

  ‘We escaped, Helen, but unfortunately they decided to follow Clarissa. I take it you out-ran them?’

  ‘Yes, but became hopelessly lost. My mare went lame and I took shelter for the night in a deserted hut. This morning I walked to an inn and hired a hackney carriage to bring me home. The mare should be returned later today.’

  ‘Never mind the horse,’ declared Lady Wyckenham, blinking rapidly. ‘You are safe, my love, and that is all that counts.’

  Lady Gaunt sighed.

  ‘Pity of it is that we came away empty-handed.’

  ‘And thank heavens for that!’ declared Lady Wyckenham looking as severe as it was possible for her to do. ‘How could you think of resorting to highway robbery, Dorothea? I cannot credit that you could do such a thing. And to be leading the others into such danger….’

  ‘I know, and I am vastly sorry for it,’ responded the viscountess gravely. ‘I agree it was most irresponsible – a momentary madness, brought on by boredom.’

  ‘Yes, well, it is too bad of you, Dorothea. It must not happen again.’

  ‘You are quite right, Helen, and after Saturday I promise I shall not involve you in my schemes again.’

  Lady Wyckenham stared at her.

  ‘You do not mean to continue with that plan, after last night?’

  ‘But of course.’

  ‘Mama-Nell, I agree that yesterday’s escapade was unwise, but Lady Gaunt is right: we must go ahead with our plans to recover your letters. How else are we to free you from Lord Ullenwood’s power?’ Clarissa returned her stepmother’s gaze steadily, and Lady Wyckenham transferred her attention to the viscountess, biting her lip in frustration when she realized that they were both determined to act.

  ‘Very well,’ she said at last. ‘But there must be no more such schemes, In fact,’ she added after a short pause, ‘I think it would be best if we disbanded the Belles Dames Club.’

  ‘I agree,’ said Lady Gaunt. ‘It has been an enjoyable distraction, Helen, but I think you are right: our little club is no longer a secret, and that was a considerable part of its charm. Besides, Gaunt wants to take me to Derbyshire next week, and from there I think I shall accompany him to the Continent.’ She smiled at Clarissa. ‘I am so glad you are returned safe, my dear, and I am more sorry than I can say that you were put into such danger. I will let the others know, although I am sure they will want to talk to you about it tomorrow night.’

  Lady Wyckenham threw up her hands. ‘Well, I do not want to talk of it: I cannot even think of it without shuddering! My poor Clarissa, to be alone and unprotected all night – I am quite distraught.’

  Clarissa had to turn away. Despite her tiredness an irrepressible dimple threatened to peep out. What would they say if they knew the truth? She quelled the thought: it must not be discovered. She looked up suddenly.

  ‘Where is my brother, does he know?’

  Lady Wyckenham shook her head.

  ‘William was out when Dorothea called last night, and he went straight to his room when he came in. We have not told him.’ She looked a little guilty. ‘I suggested to Simmons that as long as you returned safely today, it would be better if we did not tell him. It is not that I do not value your brother, Clarissa,’ she went on, colouring slightly, ‘but if there is no harm done, then it would be pointless to upset him.’

  Clarissa smiled at that.

  ‘Of course, Mama-Nell. If the servants believe I lost my way last night, they will think it only natural that I do not wish William to know of my folly.’

  ‘Good.’ Lady Gaunt stood up. ‘If you can keep Lord Wyckenham from knowing anything about this until we have you and your letters safe, Helen, I think it would be best. Now, I must go. Clarissa, we meet again on Saturday, ostensibly for another riding party.’

  ‘Perhaps the others will not want to take part in another such scheme, after what happened yesterday?’ asked Lady Wyckenham not unhopefully.

  ‘No, we are agreed,’ said Lady Gaunt. ‘And we will be much better prepared this time. Now, Helen, you are not to worry: only play your part and we will do the rest.’

  Clarissa looked up.

  ‘Will you not be at Mama-Nell’s party tomorrow, ma’am?’

  ‘Alas my dear, no. Gaunt is coming and I want to be at home for him – unfashionable I know, but I am really very fond of him.’ She smiled as she moved towards the door. ‘I hope Grantham has returned by now, and I can tell him you are safe, Clarissa. I suppose I will have to let him go now Gaunt is returning, but have no fear, my dears, he shall be well rewarded for his – ah – exemplary services.’

  ‘Well!’ exclaimed Lady Wyckenham, when the viscountess had left, ‘I do not know whether to be most shocked or amused by Dorothea. She is a very good friend, but a dangerous one. And not fit company for a single lady,’ she added.

  Clarissa felt that after the last twelve hours she was in no fit state to comment upon Lady Gaunt’s behaviour. Pleading exhaustion, she fled to the seclusion of her bedchamber.

  Her maid pounced upon her as soon as she stepped through the door, and Clarissa was at pains to repeat the story she had agreed with Lady Wyckenham: conjecture would be rife below-stairs, but she hoped they would trust Becky’s account of what had happened to her mistress. To escape her maid’s fussing, Clarissa bathed quickly then took to her bed. She was soon asleep, waking several hours later to find her stepmother leaning over her.

  ‘Did I disturb you? I am sorry.’ Lady Wyckenham smiled.

  ‘What time is it? I must get up for dinner….’

  Mama-Nell gently pushed her back against the pillows.

  ‘I shall send your dinner up to you, my love. You need not think that I shall be lonely, for William is dining at home tonight. I have told him you are indisposed, by the by, and, being a man, you may be sure he will not enquire too closely.’

  ‘Then perhaps I should come downstairs to sit with you after dinner….’

  ‘No, no, for I have to go out for a while.’

  ‘Oh? Do we have an engagement? You will have to give my apologies—’

  ‘No, it is nothing like that. It – I have heard from an old friend who is in town and I wish to make a brief call. I shall not be late, I promise you.’ She leaned down to press a scented kiss on Clarissa’s cheek. ‘You must rest, my dear, for I want you in your very best looks for my party tomorrow night.’

  Clarissa entered the breakfast-room the following morning to find both her brother and stepmother had arrived before her. She cast an enquiring look towards Lady Wyckenham and caught the faintest shake of her head, which she took to mean that William knew nothing of her escapade. A few moments’ reflection convinced her that this was quite possible. Lord Wyckenham was a rare visitor to Charlotte Street and it did not surprise her that out of loyalty to their mistress, the retainers chose to withhold information from his lordship, and from his lordship’s very superior valet.

  With a pleasant good-morning, Clarissa took her place at the breakfast-table. Lord Wyckenham did no more than glance at her before continuing to read his newspaper, a habit that Lady Wyckenham deplored but which her stepson refused to give up, saying with ponderous humour that it was the only part of the day when he was at liberty for such an indulgence. Frowning at this lamentable behaviour, Lady Wyckenham turned to her stepdaughter, enquired after her health, then began to talk about her plans for the evening party. Clarissa buttered a piece of bread and nibbled it while Mama-Nell chattered on.

  ‘I do not think I have had more than two refusals,’ she declared. ‘It will be the most shocking squeeze, which is most gratifying. And William has agreed to be here all evening, is that not so, my love?’ She had to repeat the question before eliciting a response from Lord Wyckenham and, as he returned to his newspaper, she smiled roguishly at Clarissa. ‘Of course, to persuade William to honour us with his company I have added seve
ral names to my list, dull and worthy people who will wish to talk of politics with him all night, but that need not concern us.’

  ‘And Sir Robert, is he coming?’ asked Clarissa, pouring another cup of coffee.

  A shadow crossed Lady Wyckenham’s lovely countenance.

  ‘No, I had a note from him yesterday to say he is engaged elsewhere.’

  ‘Oh, but I thought—’

  ‘Good God!’

  Clarissa jumped as her brother’s cup crashed into its saucer, and Lady Wyckenham looked up, alarmed.

  ‘William, my love, whatever is the matter – oh dear, you have spilled your coffee.’

  ‘What? Oh, oh yes. Most careless of me.’ He rose quickly. ‘My apologies, Mama-Nell. I – er – I had quite forgot the time. I have an appointment. I must go.’ He rushed out of the room, leaving Lady Wyckenham staring across the table at her stepdaughter.

  ‘It is most unlike William to be late for anything,’ murmured Clarissa.

  ‘He does so pride himself on his punctuality.’ Lady Wyckenham sighed. ‘I hope it does not put him in a bad skin for this evening.’

  Clarissa was looking towards the newsheet lying on top of William’s breakfast plate.

  ‘I wonder if there was something in the Gazette – perhaps a report about Captain Shirley.’

  Lady Wyckenham looked even more nervous.

  ‘Oh not so soon, surely.’

  ‘No, of course,’ said Clarissa, pulling the newspaper towards her. ‘That would not have made William leave so suddenly.’

  She quickly scanned the paper. Her eye alighted on an announcement bordered with a black line and the world seemed to tilt a little. She blinked, trying to read the words, the heavy black type began to dance before her eyes:

  Notice of the marriage of the Earl of Alresford to Miss Florence Medway, daughter of Sir Gordon Medway Bart. of Devizes, Somersetshire, in June (date to be announced shortly).

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  ‘Clarissa, Clarissa my dear – what is it, what have you found?’

  Clarissa folded the newspaper.

  ‘Nothing. Nothing that could signify.’ She was surprised that her voice was so normal. ‘If you will excuse me, Mama-Nell—’

  ‘Pray do not run off, Clarissa. I made sure you would help me. There are a thousand things to do before tonight’s party.’

  Clarissa heard herself asking if it could not be left to Simmons and received such a look of silent rebuke that she dragged up a smile, giving up any thoughts of escape.

  ‘Of course, Mama-Nell. Tell me what you want me to do.’

  Clarissa concentrated on carrying out the errands that Lady Wyckenham set for her, resolutely crushing all conjecture on what she had read in the newspaper. She felt her head would burst with the thoughts that kept welling up. Her heart screamed at her that it could not be true, that it was some awful mistake, but how could it be? As she walked the length of the house with an armful of linen she told herself there could be no mistake. She had seen the earl with Sir Gordon Medway and his family often enough to know that he was a close friend. Even Lady Gaunt had told her that Florence Medway was just such a good, pious creature as the fiancée Alresford had lost.

  The memory of their night together in the shepherd’s hut came back so strongly that she stopped in one of the long corridors, and had to remain there for several minutes, leaning against the wall while she fought down a great desire to weep at the thought of her actions. She had thrown herself at him in the most wanton manner – he had been a saint not to take advantage of her. Hers was the blame, and she would have to live with it.

  ‘Foolish girl!’ she muttered fiercely, starting forward again. ‘Foolish, headstrong girl!’

  The youngest housemaid, coming out of one of the bedrooms at that moment, paled at being thus addressed.

  ‘I’m very sorry, miss,’ she stammered, dropping a nervous curtsy. ‘Very sorry, I’m sure.’

  Clarissa stared at her, then hurried on, closing her lips tightly lest anything more incriminating should escape her.

  By the time she returned to her own room Becky was already laying out her dress for the evening.

  ‘I thought you would want to wear the new cream muslin with the long sleeves, miss.’

  Clarissa looked at the gown her maid was holding up and felt slightly sick. Alresford would not come – he could not. Then she remembered he had promised her. How would she face him? Clarissa gestured to her maid.

  ‘Pray go away, Becky. I have the headache, and will lie down for a while.’

  ‘Ooh, miss, I am sorry – shall I fetch you some lavender water to bathe your forehead, or perhaps my lady has some laudanum….’

  ‘No, nothing, thank you. I just wish to be quiet for a while. Come back in an hour.’ She saw the maid’s dubious look and summoned up another smile. ‘Off you go: it will pass more quickly if I rest.’

  ‘Very well, miss.’

  The maid left, closing the door softly behind her and for a long time Clarissa did not move. At last she walked to her dressing-table and sat down, staring with unseeing eyes at her reflection in the glass. There seemed to be an argument raging in her head, one voice insisting that the notice was an error: Alresford would come tonight and explain it all to her. How could he? scoffed the other voice The notice was clear, they were to be married in June. One month’s time. Alresford must have known of it: he had not planned to be alone with her and he had made her no declarations of love, no promises. She could not claim he had broken faith with her. Wait until you have seen him, spoken to him, said the first voice. Don’t give up hope.

  When Becky returned an hour later Clarissa allowed her to dress her in the new cream muslin, caught around the waist with a wide lemon sash and under Becky’s skilful hands her hair was persuaded to fall in soft curls to her shoulders, caught back from her face with another lemon ribbon, and a number of pale yellow rosebuds cunningly placed amongst her curls.

  ‘Ooh, miss, you look as fine as fivepence, if I may say so,’ declared Becky, fastening the single string of pearls about her mistress’s slender neck. ‘You will wear the pearl ear-drops too? Good … there, now let me look at you: you look a picture, although ’tis a pity you won’t let me powder your hair – so thick it is, why there’ s many a lady has to resort to padding and false hair pieces to produce such thick curls! And perhaps a little rouge for your cheeks, miss, for you are still looking a little pale….’

  Clarissa waved her away.

  ‘No, Becky, no rouge. It is time I joined Lady Wyckenham. Our guests will be arriving.’

  An hour later Clarissa was wondering if she should have pleaded a migraine and kept to her bed. She stood beside Mama-Nell at the head of the wide staircase and greeted the steady stream of arrivals with her usual grace and charm. She smiled, laughed and chattered away, but had no idea what she said. Her face felt taut with the effort of constantly smiling: she was determined no one should know her inner turmoil and she was thankful that Lady Wyckenham was too occupied with her duties as hostess to give her more than a cursory glance. William, too, seemed preoccupied and gave her very little attention. She turned so that she could look into the drawing-room, where her brother was conversing with a group of sober-looking gentlemen: probably he was too busy trying to ingratiate himself with the two cabinet ministers Mama-Nell had been at such pains to invite. Lady Wyckenham’s voice cut through her reverie, bringing her back to the present with a jolt.

  ‘Sir Gordon, Lady Medway – how delightful….’

  She spun around in time to see Sir Gordon bowing over Lady Wyckenham’s hand. His wife stood at his side but seemed reluctant to smile, as if torn between gratification at being invited and disapproval of the opulence around her. Clarissa scolded herself for being so uncharitable. She gave her brightest smile to Florence, who was standing slightly behind her parents and was rewarded with a cool nod.

  ‘Miss Medway – you are looking very well, and such a pretty gown.’ Lady Wyckenham did her be
st to draw her out. ‘Such an unusual shade of blue – how well it matches your eyes.’

  Miss Medway looked non-plussed, uncertain how to respond to my lady’s kind words. Her father gave a fat chuckle.

  ‘Yes, a new gown, and we persuaded little Florence to choose something other than the sober colours she likes so well. After all, we have something to celebrate, do we not?’

  Clarissa saw the colour mount in Miss Medway’s cheeks as she felt it drain from her own.

  ‘You look puzzled, ma’am,’ Sir Gordon continued. ‘Perhaps you have not heard: our little girl is to be married to Lord Alresford. The notice was in the newspapers today.’

  ‘N-no, I had not heard.’ Lady Wyckenham looked towards Clarissa, who felt as if she had been turned to stone.

  ‘I am sure my lady has been too much occupied with her little party.’ Lady Medway gave a thin smile.

  ‘Well, it is delightful news,’ said Lady Wyckenham, making a recovery. ‘You are to be congratulated, Miss Medway.’ As the happy family moved away she hissed at Clarissa, ‘Did you know of this?’

  ‘I – I saw something….’

  ‘I cannot credit it!’ muttered my lady, tapping her fan against her hand in agitation. ‘I had thought – but never mind that now. Alresford! Well, he is always so severe and she is invariably Friday-faced, so they are made for one another, don’t you think?’

  She did not expect an answer and Clarissa was grateful, because at that moment she felt so miserable she could not speak. There could be no doubt now about the announcement. Clarissa raised her head and fixed an even brighter smile: she would not spoil Mama-Nell’s party with her megrims.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  Once the stream of guests coming up the stairs had thinned to a trickle, Mama-Nell dismissed Clarissa from her post at the top of the stairs and asked her instead to look after her guests in the drawing-room. Lord Alresford had not appeared, and Clarissa told herself she was glad he had not come, yet she continued to watch the door. When Sir Howard Besthorpe came in, she glanced across the room at Mrs Norwell, but Julia was happily engaged with a group that included her husband, and Clarissa was confident that Barnabus would not allow Sir Howard to approach his wife. Her spirits dipped when Lord Ullenwood’s tall figure appeared, but she realized that Mama-Nell had been obliged to invite him, if their little scheme to retrieve her letters was to work. She tried to concentrate on her guests and was soon approached by Georgiana Flooke and her sister, who wanted to know everything of her flight from the Heath, but even as she talked to them she was aware of every new arrival, and at last she was rewarded: Lord Alresford walked in.