Courting Lord Dorney Read online

  ‘Well, I’m going to try the water after all,’ Bella declared after gazing round the elegant room. ‘It’s silly to come here and not.’ She walked across to the fountain where the attendant supplied her with a glass of the warm liquid. Jane decided she might as well have some too, and they sipped cautiously, concluding it was not too disagreeable.

  ‘I didn’t taste the Harrogate water, but I’m told it’s horrid,’ Bella said over her shoulder to Jane as she handed back her glass.

  ‘Did you like anything at all about Harrogate?’ Jane asked, laughing.

  ‘No, I don’t think so.’ Bella chuckled. ‘Perhaps it’s an omen if I like Bath. But what shall we do now? Do we have to sit here all morning?’

  ‘We could go and visit the Abbey. Or do some shopping. Or - no. I’ve just seen one of my aunt’s old friends. I met her when my aunt brought me just before my come out. She lives here and knows everyone. I don’t think she’s seen me yet but let’s go and introduce ourselves.’

  ‘Will she know Philip doesn’t have a cousin called Isabella?’ Bella asked, catching Jane’s arm as a sudden surge of panic gripped her, and she realized for the first time what disastrous consequences could result from her masquerade.

  ‘No, she probably doesn’t even know I’m married, for my aunt died the year after we came here and I don’t think anyone else in the family knew her.’

  Although slightly puzzled at first, Mrs Eversley soon recalled Jane. After voluble commiserations on the death of her aunt, exclamations and questions about Jane’s marriage, and some embarrassing hints and comments about her lack of children, she ordered her to talk to her hitherto silent companion and turned to an unusually subdued Bella.

  ‘Are you connected to the Bedfordshire Collins?’ she demanded.

  Bella gulped. ‘No, I don’t think so. Philip comes - and so does my family, of course, from Lancashire. But I don’t really know very much about our other cousins.’

  ‘Does he resemble you?’ the inquisition went on.

  Bella almost giggled as she thought of the tall, blue-eyed, blond giant who had married Jane.

  ‘Not - not a great deal,’ she answered hurriedly. ‘I take after my mother’s family,’ she invented.

  ‘H’m. You’re a good looking gal, Jane,’ she said loudly, poking Jane with a bony finger to attract her attention, ‘and I always said you’d get yourself a handsome husband. Are you betrothed, Miss Collins? You’re no spring chicken, and soon you’ll be thoroughly on the shelf.’

  ‘No, I’m not betrothed,’ Bella managed baldly, digesting the implications of Mrs Eversley’s last remark. Had she intended to be deliberately rude, or was she one of those autocratic old ladies who considered it their prerogative to say anything they chose, however unpleasant or personal, relying on age and infirmity to protect them from retaliation? Was she, with her own excessive candour, liable to give similar offence?

  ‘Money?’

  ‘I beg your pardon?’ Bella stiffened angrily. This was too much. At least she didn’t ask impertinent questions, even if she did express her opinions freely.

  Jane kicked her on the ankle and smiled sweetly at their interlocutor. ‘Bella has what I think you could call quite reasonable expectations,’ she put in.

  ‘Then you might make an acceptable match. I suppose that’s why you’ve come here. Did you think it would be easier than London?’

  ‘Jane has come to drink the waters!’ Bella snapped, infuriated at the implication she could not hope to find a husband in London.

  While Jane cast an anguished glance at her the old woman cackled with laughter.

  ‘You’re by no means a beauty, or as young as some, although you’re not bad looking. Jane, stop making eyes at her. Go and get me another glass of the loathsome stuff,’ she ordered, and Jane went reluctantly away. ‘You certainly have something when your eyes sparkle and you fire up like that,’ she continued approvingly. ‘I like a gal with spirit. But take my advice, don’t aim too high. Settle for a solid country squire and don’t languish after men like Dorney. Every silly gal in Bath’s set her heart on him some time or other, despite his reputation, even before he got the title. He’ll let his cousin succeed, mark my words. Still smarting from the way his brother’s wife ruined him.’

  * * * *

  Bella was no longer listening for Mr Richard Yates, accompanied by a younger man, had entered the Pump Room and strolled immediately across to the fountain. Mrs Eversley had embarked on a catalogue of the current unattached male inhabitants of Bath, with pungent summaries of their many faults and occasional virtues, and the chances Bella might have of entrapping one of them.

  Bella ignored her since she was regarding the newcomer more closely than she’d been able to the previous day. He was, she judged, in his late twenties or early thirties. His skin was dark, and she thought it came more from outdoor living than his natural complexion. He had a countryman’s way of moving, steady and sure, none of the tripping daintiness of the poodle man. His figure was good, that of an athlete. And his eyes, bright blue and set deep under thick brows, she recalled as both penetrating in gaze and expressive of emotions he otherwise kept hidden. There had been a hint of laughter in them yesterday directed, she was sure, at the fop even while he was talking contemptuously of him. His single-breasted, square-tailed coat fitted superbly, and Bella thought she could detect the rippling muscles beneath the dark brown superfine. Pale fawn breeches were tucked into high hussar boots, and he carried a dark brown beaver hat. Unlike his companion, whose dress betrayed a tendency towards dandyism, Richard Yates’s shirt collar was modestly high, and his cravat tied in the simple Orientale. More than ever she longed to know whether he was married. She had this strange feeling that if he were her life would be for ever blighted. After such a short acquaintance she was already sure no other man could match his many perfections.

  ‘We’d be delighted, wouldn’t we, Bella?’ Jane had returned.

  Bella came to with a start at another kick on the ankle, and she turned to meet Mrs Eversley’s amused gaze.

  ‘What? Oh, yes, of course,’ she stammered.

  ‘Good, we’ll see you both at eight tonight. Now I mustn’t keep you from your other friends.’

  ‘No. Yes. Thank you. Goodbye. Jane, what in the world was she talking about?’ Bella hissed as they moved away.

  ‘We’re invited to a soiree tonight.’

  Bella groaned. ‘Not a soiree! You’ve no idea how excruciatingly tedious they can be! I swore I’d never attend another after I had to listen to a soprano who couldn’t reach the high notes, and a poet whose verse never scanned or rhymed, and a dreadful harpist whose strings broke just when she was plucking away like mad.’

  Jane laughed. ‘Poor Bella, how dreadful for you! But everyone goes to Mrs Eversley’s house. It’s one of the best ways of meeting people in Bath. And that’s what you wanted.’

  Bella thought it hardly politic to announce she’d already met the only man she wanted to in Bath, but tried to steer Jane unobtrusively towards him. He was talking with pair of fashionably dressed ladies, clearly mother and daughter.

  The younger girl, whom Bella estimated as only seventeen, a few years younger than herself, was simpering up at him in a most repulsive way, while her mother gushed. Bella disliked them both on sight.

  But he had seen them and swiftly, efficiently, and in a manner that left them with no intimation they had been dismissed, took his leave of the two women. Then he moved towards Jane and Bella.

  ‘Lady Hodder. And Miss Collins. I trust you’re not suffering any after effects from that contretemps yesterday?’

  ‘Not at all.’

  ‘And the animal?’

  ‘He seems to have settled into his new quarters remarkably swiftly,’ Jane replied wryly.

  He chuckled. ‘He recognizes kind hearts,’ he said. ‘May I introduce my cousin, Alexander Yates? Alex, Lady Hodder, and Miss Collins, about whom I spoke yesterday.’

  So he’d talked about her
! Bella thought exultantly as she smiled at the younger man.

  ‘I’m happy to make your acquaintance,’ he said formally. ‘Richard described how you vanquished that overfed poodle and his overdressed master. It’s time someone told Dandy Ledsham a few home truths.’

  They chatted for a few minutes and then Alexander, who had been glancing surreptitiously about him, coughed loudly. ‘Dorney, excuse me please. I must pay my respects to Miss Hollings and her sister. Ladies, forgive me, but I have an urgent message to pass on to someone.’

  He bowed himself away and was soon in animated conversation with a lovely golden-haired girl, no more than sixteen, but enchantingly pretty with her delicate complexion and luxuriant ringlets.

  Bella was frowning in puzzlement.

  ‘Dorney?’ she queried? ‘I thought your name was Yates?’

  ‘That’s my family name, but I’m also Lord Dorney. Didn’t I say so? How remiss of me. I do apologize. In fact I’ve held the title for only a little over a year. I still sometimes forget it! But I value truth above all else and it could have been embarrassing for you not to have known.’

  Bella was still frowning. Hadn’t Mrs Eversley mentioned a Dorney? Of course, she’d warned Bella not to set her mind on him. How could she know? But then she’d also said every girl had. And that he had a reputation. For what, she wondered. It was pure chance she’d picked on his name as an example, not a specific warning. It must have been. Bella’s heart sank, then soared at Lord Dorney’s next words.

  ‘Perhaps I might call on you one day?’ he was saying politely, and Jane nodded acquiescence. ‘Do you go to the concert tonight?’

  ‘We’re invited to Mrs Eversley’s house,’ Jane replied, oblivious of Bella’s sudden pleading glance.

  ‘Then I’ll no doubt see you one day at the Assembly Rooms,’ he said easily, and took his leave, strolling across to join his cousin who was talking urgently to the lovely Miss Hollings.

  ‘What did Mrs Eversley mean by warning me away from him?’ Bella demanded as they walked home. ‘She said he had a reputation.’

  ‘Perhaps she meant he flirted but didn’t easily fall in love,’ Jane replied.

  ‘Then at least he can’t be married!’ Bella crowed, firmly disregarding the other information.

  ‘But she said he had a reputation. That didn’t sound promising. And if lots of girls have set their caps at him, how can you do better?’

  ‘Because they were certainly prettier? Is that what you mean? Oh, don’t worry, Jane, I’m used to being plain.’ She laughed as Jane uttered embarrassed denials. ‘That’s a challenge, and as yet I don’t know what I’ll do. I wonder what sort of reputation she meant? I’ll think of something, don’t worry. But in a way,’ she mused, ‘it’s more hopeful than if he were a man who fell in and out of love several times a year.’

  She refused to elaborate on her schemes, and spent the afternoon walking in Sydney Gardens with the dog, planning how to set about her campaign to attach Lord Dorney. The animal, who was already looking sleeker after Lizy had bathed and brushed him, was now dignified with the name of Rags, since Mrs Dawes claimed he reminded her of nothing more than a bundle of old clothes, with his multi-coloured coat, rough and torn in places, and straggly tail.

  * * * *

  Despite her preoccupations, Bella had not forgotten her proposal to buy another house for orphans in Bristol. She had written to Mr and Mrs Tomkins in Bristol, and had that morning received a reply inviting her to visit them the following week. They said there was considerable interest amongst the Wesleyan people in the city, and they were confident a suitable scheme could be arranged.

  She would take Mary to give her visit respectability, and Jackson, who was proving to be an excellent groom, could drive them.

  There had also been a letter from Mr Jenkins, reporting that three more orphans had been taken in by Mr and Mrs Lloyd in Preston, and the local people were responding well to appeals for money to maintain them. Soon, he wrote, Bella’s contribution to the upkeep of the house would not be needed, and she could put that money towards the establishment of similar houses elsewhere.

  ‘We, that is my wife and I, think the houses should be named after you,’ he wrote. ‘That would be a fitting memorial to your generosity.’

  No, Bella rejected the notion. She had instigated the scheme, but the money had come to her through her uncle, who had been the one to earn it. She sat down to reply, suggesting that the houses should bear her uncle’s name. ‘A pleasant idea, but it should be he who is honoured, not me. Can you arrange for a suitable, discreet plaque to be designed for the house and send me a drawing of it? When I have other houses I will ask you to have more made.’

  * * * *

  For the evening she wore a simple pale blue, high-waisted muslin gown, with short puffed sleeves and edged with darker blue ribbons. The hem was trimmed with ruffles and embroidery of the same dark blue. Beneath the skirts peeped matching dark blue slippers.

  Jane had a more sophisticated gown of cream silk, with brown appliqued flowers round the hem and neckline, which was much lower than was considered suitable for a young unmarried damsel. Bella felt a moment’s envy of Jane’s taller, slimmer figure which the current fashions suited so well.

  Mrs Eversley had a house just off Queen’s Square, and Jackson drove them there in the carriage. Jane had insisted on hiring one, despite the preference of most Bath inhabitants for sedan chairs, due to the hilly nature of the town. Queen’s Square was in the relatively flat area suitable for carriages, and as they intended to buy riding horses, Jane had decided that Jackson might as well earn his keep by driving a carriage too.

  ‘Besides, it’s so much more comfortable, and we can talk.’

  Mrs Eversley’s double salon was already crowded when they arrived, and after greeting their hostess they found places on two delicate gilt chairs at the side of the room, where they could see the musicians already disposed on a raised dais at the far end.

  To Bella’s relief the musical part of the evening did not last for more than an hour, and was of a far higher standard than she’d endured in Harrogate. Afterwards they were directed to another large room where a lavish buffet awaited them, and were soon seated at a small table chatting to a pair of elderly gentlemen. One had a distinctly military bearing, and seemed to find Jane irresistible. The other spoke with a northern accent and a blunt manner which Bella found refreshing after the meaningless society chit-chat of other people she’d met.

  ‘From Lancashire?’ the northerner, a Mr Kershaw asked. ‘I’m in wool meself, in Leeds, but I’m thinking of moving over to cotton. Much more go-ahead in Lancashire, though I hate to admit it!’

  ‘Go-ahead? How do you mean?’ Jane asked, intrigued.

  ‘Wi’ they new machines, and the use o’ power for driving ‘em,’ Mr Kershaw explained. ‘The spinners and weavers can work in mills now, and be controlled far better than the wool workers can. Instead o’ messin’ about most of the day, working plots o’ land too small to support ‘em, and spinning or weaving only to get a bit extra, the whole family can work a proper day in the mill and earn a decent wage.’

  ‘I don’t call it decent when tiny children have to work twelve hours a day!’ Bella exclaimed. ‘They’re not even fed properly, and were far better off running about the fields, earning a penny scaring birds, or helping to gather wood for the fire. Besides, it’s unhealthy in those mills, with all the steam and the fluff.’

  ‘And what do you know about it, lass?’ Mr Kershaw, although taken aback by her vehemence, was prepared to indulge a little feminine sensibility.

  ‘I found a lad of six, whose mother had just died, from an accident with one of those wonderful machines, and he was being starved, living as a so-called apprentice in one of these dreadful places. Threatened too, if he didn’t submit to inhuman treatment. He was trying to run away, poor mite. And I went to see one of the mills a few years ago,’ Bella informed him curtly. ‘My godfather was interested in the machinery,
he had some ideas for improvement, and I was horrified by what I saw.’

  Mr Kershaw smiled benevolently. ‘It’s what you’m used to. They don’t know any better, they haven’t had the advantages of your position in life, my dear, and so don’t miss it.’

  ‘That’s not entirely true,’ Bella declared, her colour high. ‘They did know a better life when they were not forced to slave in those beastly mills all day and half the night! They had fresh air, and good wholesome food, and spring water, as well as better places to live in than the attics of a mill or the hovels they have now!’

  ‘The mill owners weren’t forced to build good houses for their workpeople, but many of them did, out of the goodness of their hearts!’ Mr Kershaw was growing heated and Jane, aware that the raised voices were attracting unwelcome attention from other guests, was doing her best to catch Bella’s eye. But Bella ignored her warning glances.

  ‘Good houses!’ she exclaimed contemptuously. ‘Two damp rooms for a family of eight or ten children? The only water from a tap a hundred or more yards away, and a privy shared with dozens of other families? Is that what you’d wish for your family, sir?’

  ‘I hardly think this is a suitable topic for ladies at an evening party,’ the military gentleman interrupted firmly, but Mr Kershaw was not content to let it rest there.

  ‘You’d find your pretty gowns a sight more expensive, young lass, if we didn’t encourage progress,’ he said with an air of finality.

  ‘Perhaps it would be a fairer world if we did pay more for such frivolities, and gave the people who produce them the chance of getting the necessities of life!’ Bella retorted.

  ‘Well said, Miss Collins,’ an amused voice behind her commented, and with a gasp Bella turned to find Lord Dorney and his cousin standing by her shoulder.

  She bit her lip, and felt her cheeks, already heated from the overcrowded room and the strength of her emotions, grow yet rosier.

  With a curt bow the military gentleman seized the opportunity of drawing Mr Kershaw away. Lord Dorney and Alexander took their places, but tactfully changed the conversation by asking whether the ladies had enjoyed the musical entertainment.