The Belle Dames Club Page 6

  Sir Robert put back his head and laughed aloud, causing several of the other guests to look up. Clarissa threw him an enquiring glance and he shook his head at her, grinning.

  ‘I do not know which shocks me more, Miss Wyckenham. That you should repeat such a thing, or that Lady Wyckenham should discuss it with you.’

  ‘Shocking, is it not?’

  ‘No – refreshing and delightful!’

  ‘Pray do not encourage me to be outrageous, Sir Robert.’ Clarissa was ready to continue her tour, but as she stepped back and turned she collided with a solid body behind her. ‘Oh, I am so sorry – oh … Lord Alresford!’

  ‘Your pardon, Miss Wyckenham, the fault is mine, of course.’

  ‘No, no, how could it be? You could not see me behind you.’ She gave him her ready smile, but could see no softening of the hard features as Lord Alresford bowed and walked away. Stifling a sigh, she cast a rueful look at Sir Robert. ‘You see, sir, my levity is not to everyone’s taste.’

  ‘I met Lord Alresford for the first time this evening, and admit I find it odd that such a sober gentleman should be great friends with Barnabus Norwell, who is such a lively spirit. I am told Alresford suffered a tragedy some years ago and has never recovered.’

  ‘Evidently.’

  ‘You sound disapproving, Miss Wyckenham.’

  ‘I am sorry, I should not be, especially when I know the gentleman disapproves of me, but …’ Clarissa paused, and when Sir Robert remained silent she continued with some difficulty, ‘I have no doubt that we have all suffered some tragedy in our lives, but we do not wear our heart on our sleeve. Indeed, what right have we to inflict such gloom upon our fellows? There is enough sadness and suffering in the world, we should not add to it without good reason.’ She looked up, feeling a little self-conscious. ‘Goodness, how dreadfully pompous that sounds! Pray, Sir Robert, let us move on before I infect us both with a fit of the dismals. Tell me what you know about this creature: it looks like a perfectly ordinary little beetle….’

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The press of guests had thinned a little when Lady Wyckenham found Sir Robert Ingleton at her side.

  ‘So, sir, you have shown my stepdaughter all your fine drawings? Sir Joseph Banks himself was kind enough to take me round, so I have been well entertained.’

  ‘Good. I am sorry I could not get back to you earlier. Your stepdaughter is very charming, Helen. She was certainly most appreciative of the illustrations from the voyage. She tells me she is come to live with you?’

  My lady sighed and plied her fan.

  ‘Ah, so this attention is a ploy: you are smitten with Clarissa.’

  He grinned. ‘The devil I am! I have only just met the chit. But now you come to mention it, she is a beauty.’

  The fan snapped shut and landed smartly across his knuckles. He laughed at her.

  ‘Jealous, Nell?’

  ‘Not in the least,’ she replied with great dignity. ‘Merely, I will not have you speaking so lightly of my stepdaughter.’

  ‘Then tell me how it comes about that she has been out for three years and has not been in Town before now?’

  ‘She was presented shortly before Wyckenham’s death. Her season was cut short and since then she has been acting as companion to her sister.’

  ‘Companion?’ he raised his brows. ‘Your daughter a companion, Nell?’

  ‘It is true. Her sister Anne was newly married to an army man when their father died and then Anne’s husband was sent off to America very soon afterwards. Clarissa chose to keep her company.’

  ‘And she has been there for the past three years? I would have thought you anxious to marry off the girl, not leave her wasting away as a companion.’

  ‘She did not wish it.’

  Sir Robert’s eyes narrowed.

  ‘You look ill-at-ease, Nell. Now what have I uncovered here? Some scandal in your family closet?’

  ‘Nothing of the kind,’ she replied quickly. ‘I wish you would keep your sordid imagination in check.’

  ‘Aha. So there is a mystery!’

  Lady Wyckenham rose and shook out her skirts.

  ‘Nothing of the sort. Now if you will excuse me, it is late. I must find my daughter and take her home.’

  She gave him her hand to kiss, which he did with great aplomb.

  ‘Goodnight, dear lady. Shall I see you at Lady Matlock’s soirée next week?’

  ‘Yes, we shall be there, I think. Clarissa is minded to go.’

  Sir Robert squeezed her fingers before releasing them. ‘Until then, my lady. ’Tis a full week away, but I must bear it, for I have several pressing engagements that cannot be postoned.’

  My lady knew a degree of relief: she found Sir Robert was beginning to disturb her peace of mind.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The ladies of the Belles Dames Club descended upon the Spring Gardens in Vauxhall like a flock of gaily coloured birds. There were only six of them present, for sisters Emily and Georgiana were engaged to attend a family party, Lady Maramond had cried off with a headache and Julia Norwell was promised to join her mama-in-law at whatever party of pleasure had been designed for her entertainment.

  They travelled by coach to arrive at the entrance on Kennington Road while it was still light and walked through the wide avenue to find their supper box. Unusually, Clarissa found herself to be one of the more sober members of the group. Lady Wyckenham was her usual assured self, and Lady Gaunt swept through the gardens with her little black page running at her heels, but it was as though the coverings of masks and dominos had released another side to the decorous Letitia Leighton-Kettering and Alicia Greynard, who were both giggling like schoolgirls with Lady Sarah. Clarissa glanced down at the scarlet domino Lady Gaunt had loaned her: the silk shimmered as she moved and, while she was in no doubt that it hid her identity, Clarissa was aware that the bright colour attracted a great many bold stares from the masked gentlemen roaming the gardens. She was glad they had two burly footmen in attendance: Lady Gaunt had brought them along, to add to their comfort. Clarissa stared at the taller of the two footmen, and it was a few moments before she realized why he looked so familiar. Then she gasped.

  ‘Mama-Nell,’ she whispered. ‘Lady Gaunt’s servant—’

  Lady Wyckenham followed her glance. ‘Yes, Clarissa. It is Grantham.’

  ‘Is – is he not the wrestler… ?’

  My lady chuckled.

  ‘Yes. Lady Gaunt has hired him.’

  They swooped upon the supper boxes which bordered the Grand Walk. The boxes were enclosed on three sides, but at the front only the raised floor separated them from the gravel path. Each box was set with a large table, covered in a snowy cloth and with enough chairs to seat half-a-dozen diners in comfort. Once they had located their box, the ladies divested themselves of their dominos and settled down to enjoy the music being played by the orchestra perched on the balcony of the ornate Gothic rotunda. The supper boxes were arranged around a central promenade and the ladies were kept amused observing the people who moved in a constant stream across their view. Mrs Leighton-Kettering, sitting at one end of the supper table, was the first to spot a familiar face.

  ‘Good heavens, it’s Lady Norwell. Look, she is coming this way. Barnabus and Julia are with her – and who is the other lady … ah, Margaret Eastwood, her married daughter,’ she explained to Clarissa. ‘And – oh my, Barny has even prevailed upon Alresford to accompany them!’

  Lady Sarah leaned closer to Clarissa and murmured, ‘So there’s a damper, even before the evening has begun. My goodness, just look at Lady Norwell’s gown: the lace alone must have cost a king’s ransom. And she is such a round woman; why does she insist on wearing hoops when the effect is to make her as wide as she is tall? And Margaret is the same. We were at school together, you know, and she was just such a fusby-faced girl then: she must know that those ostrich feathers do not suit her.’

  By this time the party was upon them and Mrs Leighton-Kettering
waved to catch their attention. Lady Norwell stopped in front of the box to exchange pleasantries. Mr Norwell stood smiling before them with his mama on one arm and his wife on the other, and coming up behind them Clarissa spotted Lord Alresford escorting an overdressed matron. It was not difficult to guess that this was Mrs Margaret Eastwood, for the likeness between mother and daughter was remarkable.

  ‘Julia,’ exclaimed Lady Sarah in mock horror. ‘How could you!’ she lifted her domino from the back of her chair. ‘They are almost identical.’ She saw Julia’s look of anguish and went off into a peal of laughter. ‘Oh I am jesting, you know I am! Pray don’t look too worried, my love. I shall give my dressmaker a fine trimming tomorrow for daring to tell me I was the only customer to have this emerald green!’

  Julia, recovering, gave a soft laugh.

  ‘We must make sure we keep well apart in the walks tonight.’

  Julia looked up at her husband as she spoke, and Clarissa thought she had never seen Mrs Norwell look so happy.

  ‘My dears, such a squeeze!’ declared Lady Norwell, in her good-natured way. ‘We shall not stay too late, of course. I understand these affairs can get very rowdy after midnight.’

  ‘Oh good,’ murmured Lady Gaunt.

  Lady Wyckenham leaned forward, saying hurriedly, ‘Will we have the pleasure of seeing Sir Isaac in town, ma’am?’

  ‘Oh dear me no. My husband cannot be prised away from the country.’ Lady Norwell gave a gusty sigh. ‘I vow I believe he would sell the house at Knight’s Bridge if he could, but as it is, Barnabus and Julia make good use of it, and we are always happy to join them, are we not, Margaret?’

  Margaret Eastwood nodded, setting the mustard yellow plumes on her head wobbling.

  ‘Indeed we are, Mama. Of course, if would be better if Mr E could be here to share it with me, but he is needed on parish business you know, and Lord Alresford is being so gallant.’ She simpered and smiled up at her escort. Lord Alresford’s attempt at a smile nearly overset Clarissa, who could not resist saying, ‘An uncommon treat for you, my lord, to be able to indulge yourself in an evening of unalloyed pleasure.’

  ‘Uncommon indeed!’ cried Barnabus, overhearing. ‘Marius spends far too much time alone with his books and his business. Get yourself a good manager, I tell him. Leave the estates to him and come out and enjoy yourself.’

  ‘Which is precisely what I have done,’ my lord responded.

  Barnabus snorted.

  ‘Gammon. Don’t tell me you would not prefer to be alone in your study with a book.’

  Clarissa saw the glimmer of a smile in those harsh features.

  ‘I would not be so impolite.’

  ‘Barny, I will not let you roast poor Alresford,’ cried Mrs Eastwood. ‘He has been most charming. Why, I could not wish for a livelier companion.’

  Clarissa laughed, and quickly turned it into a cough, but she knew Lord Alresford was not deceived. The rueful gleam was still in his eyes as he shook his head.

  ‘Thank you, ma’am, but you know you are being too generous.’

  Lady Norwell gave a fat chuckle.

  ‘Perhaps she is, Marius, but we have known you since your cradle and are accustomed to your quiet ways.’

  Lady Wyckenham gave both gentlemen her wide smile.

  ‘You are fortunate in your escorts, Lady Norwell.’

  ‘I know it, my lady, and mean to enjoy it while I may – Lord Alresford is escorting us all to Drury Lane tomorrow night, is that not good of him? Now, we are going to see the cascade. Come along, Barnabus … Julia, keep up, my love.’

  The party moved off and the ladies settled down to their supper. Mrs Leighton-Kettering was about to help herself to a slice of the wafer-thin ham when a figure in the crowd caught her eye.

  ‘Oh dear, Sir Howard Besthorpe. I do hope he will not approach.’

  ‘I will give him the smallest of nods, like so, and turn my shoulder to him,’ said Lady Alicia. ‘That should give him the hint.’

  ‘It has, Alicia. Clever you. He is walking on. What a figure of fun he looks, to be sure, with those long ribbons at his knee! Does he not know that the fashion is changing to buckles? Mr Leighton-K tells me the gentlemen call him Blue-bow Besthorpe in the clubs. I do hope he does not pester Julia this evening.’

  ‘Oh I would not think that at all likely when she is escorted by her husband and his family,’ said Lady Gaunt, making herself comfortable on a chair at the back of the box. A slight gesture brought Grantham to her side to pour wine into her glass.

  Only Clarissa, watching from the far side of the table, observed Dorothea slide her hand under the skirts of Grantham’s frock-coat and run her fingers up his thigh. She raised her eyes to the wrestler’s face and had to admire his composure. He gave no sign that Lady Gaunt was caressing his buttocks but continued to pour the wine. After a moment, however, he became aware of Clarissa’s gaze and looked across at her, his own eyes so full of mischievous amusement that she was obliged to look away and hide a smile behind her fan.

  As the wine flowed, the chattering increased and, when they had finished their supper, Lady Sarah declared that she wished to take a walk.

  ‘We need not go far,’ she said, ‘but I would like to see the lamps and grottos, now that it is dark.’

  Lady Wyckenham, Mrs Leighton-Kettering and Lady Alicia preferred to stay in the box, listening to the music, but Clarissa and Lady Gaunt agreed to go with Lady Sarah. Mrs Leighton-Kettering glanced at the two footmen.

  ‘Will you not take an escort?’

  Lady Gaunt gestured to her black page.

  ‘Only Samuel. The others shall stay here to protect you, and to procure more wine for our return.’ She picked up her burgundy domino and drew it around her.

  ‘Come, ladies, let us brave the terrors of the Dark Walk!’

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Clarissa was enjoying her first experience of Vauxhall. The paths were crowded with couples promenading through the gardens, many heavily disguised in dominos or elaborate costumes. A fresh breeze rustled through the trees and bushes. It set the coloured lamps swaying and the shifting shadows added to the sense of magic. At various points there were small grottoes adorned with imitation Greek statues. There were no lamps in these areas, and Clarissa guessed that they were extremely popular with trysting couples.

  ‘Let us take this path,’ said Lady Gaunt, leading the way and at a pace that had her small page running to keep up. ‘As I recall there is a particularly fine figure of Paris in one of these arbours … ah, here we are.’

  The path curved about a high hedge and Clarissa followed Lady Gaunt as she slipped through the archway and into a shadowed grotto. Lady Sarah followed them a few moments later, saying, ‘I am sorry, I did not see you turn, and had to come back. What is it you wanted us to see, Dorothea?’

  Clarissa went closer to the statue.

  ‘Is it meant to be Paris?’ she asked. ‘The light is too poor here for me to see.’

  ‘Oh I can assure you it is a very fine specimen,’ purred Lady Gaunt, running her hand over the cold stone. ‘I am reminded very much of Grantham.’

  ‘Your wrestler?’ Clarissa laughed. ‘Then one would suppose the statue to be very handsome.’

  ‘Oh yes,’ replied Lady Gaunt. ‘And so very … athletic.’

  Lady Sarah reached out to touch the statue.

  ‘Athletic perhaps, but cold, not a bit like my dear Toby.’ She giggled, then stopped as Clarissa laid a hand on her arm.

  ‘Hush, Sally. Someone’s coming.’

  There was a rustling of the bushes around the arbour, a scrunch of feet on the gravel path and a hoarse whisper.

  ‘Mrs Norwell – Julia!’

  ‘It’s Sir Howard,’ hissed Sarah. She put up her hand to stifle a giggle. ‘He must have seen me enter and mistaken my domino for hers!’

  ‘Julia, dearest. My little flower.’

  Lady Gaunt motioned to the others to be quiet and said, in a high, breathless voice, ‘Oh sir, pray
do not come in! I am too shy to face you directly. Stay where you are and I will talk to you.’

  Sir Howard gave a gusty sigh.

  ‘Oh my little angel! You – you are alone?’

  ‘Of course, sir.’

  ‘Then let me come in and keep you company – I have waited very patiently, my dear, but—’

  ‘Oh no, no!’ gasped Lady Gaunt, still in that breathless voice. Clarissa and Sarah stood behind her, doubled up in silent laughter. ‘I am expecting my husband to join me here at any moment.’

  ‘Then tell me quickly where we can meet … my little dove.’

  Lady Gaunt gave a dramatic sigh and leaned closer to the hedge.

  ‘Oh, my dear, dear sir.’

  ‘Tell me where I may come to you.’ Sir Howard’s voice was quivering with excitement. ‘Anywhere, any time – I am yours!’

  ‘At home – tomorrow night, at ten o’clock. My husband and his family are going out. We shall be quite, quite alone.’

  Clarissa stared at Lady Gaunt, her laughter giving way to surprise. There was a pause, then Sir Howard spoke again, his thin voice even higher.

  ‘T-ten o’clock, at Norwell House?’

  ‘Yes. You cannot miss it – it is the first big house past the Knight’s Bridge toll-gate. Do not fail me, my dear one.’

  There was another shuddering sigh from the far side of the hedge.

  ‘My angel, my dove! I shall be there. At last, I shall be able to show you how much I adore—’

  ‘Yes, yes, but someone comes, sir. You must away, or we are undone!’

  ‘Until tomorrow night then … Julia.’

  ‘Until tomorrow … Howard.’

  The three ladies stood in silence until they heard Sir Howard’s heavy tread moving away. Lady Sarah was the first to break the silence.

  ‘Dorothea,’ she said in an awed voice, ‘what are you about, you wicked woman?’

  Lady Gaunt pressed her handkerchief to her lips in an effort to quell her own laughter.