A Season of Romance Page 39

  'That was a spectacular entrance, girls, I take it you're impressed with the cold collation I've had set out for us.' Simon's welcoming smile almost caused her to stumble a second time.

  'It looks quite delicious and far too much for the three of us,' Emily said.

  The three of them enjoyed every morsel of the meal and whilst eating they finalised the plans for the treasure hunt.

  'The doctor's given me permission to use my crutches from next week so I'll be able to walk, albeit slowly, down the aisle when we get married. I can't tell you how sorry I am that we won't be able to take a wedding trip as planned.'

  'We've got the rest of our lives to explore the country together. Do you know when you will be able to travel? We have to be out of this house at the end of next month…'

  'I'm hoping to be walking normally by then so I'm certain we can depart for Sawsbury immediately after our nuptials. Once I'm able to hobble about the place without assistance then I can see no reason to delay.'

  'I would feel guilty abandoning my parents when they'll have so much packing and organising to do.'

  Mrs Featherstone marched out to join them and overheard this last remark. 'Good gracious, once the knot is tied you will be answerable to your husband and not to your father. I've agreed to remain here and assist with their removal. I cannot tell you how much I'm looking forward to the prospect of being useful once more.'

  Mama and Aunt Jemima were obviously now on the way to becoming bosom bows which would be excellent for both ladies.

  'It's becoming chilly out here, my boy, I think you should be inside.' Without asking his permission she picked up the brass bell and rang it. When a footman appeared again she spoke for Simon.

  'Kindly wheel his lordship back to his quarters.' She gestured towards the doors. 'Come along, girls, I'm sure there are plenty of tasks you can occupy yourself with until dinner time.'

  Bella was about to protest but glanced at him and saw he was looking tight-lipped and pale. How could she have missed this and allowed someone else to step in?

  Emily nodded and the three of them walked off leaving him to transfer himself from the chair to his vehicle. She was remiss in her duties and was determined to do better in future.

  The next week she was so busy helping her mother decide which items of furniture, which ornaments, which pictures she wished to take with her to the much smaller house that she scarcely had time to think about the way her life was going to change in a little over a sennight.

  The weather continued to improve and she was beginning to get excited about the house party. The day before the first of the guests were expected to arrive she was on the terrace with Simon.

  'You will be pleased to know I've inspected all the punts and they are sound.'

  He smiled lazily. 'I don't give a fig about them. Do you intend to go in one?'

  'I dislike swimming or boats – so no, I don't.'

  'In which case there's no need to discuss it further. I would enjoy this so much more if I could participate myself. I'm going to find it damnably difficult sitting on the sidelines like this whilst you flit about with handsome officers at your heels.'

  'I do hope you're not going to be a jealous husband, my lord, and frown and fret whilst I'm dancing.' Her response had been light-hearted and she turned expecting him to be laughing with her.

  Instead, his eyes were sad and for a second he looked like a stranger.

  Chapter Seventeen

  By late afternoon all the guests were safely settled in their chambers and for the first time in the three years that she'd lived there Bella actually approved of Hawksford. The huge house looked different with the plethora of hothouse flower arrangements everywhere. It also sounded alive and exciting as there was a constant murmur of voices and a clatter of feet as the fifty or so guests, plus their personal servants, made themselves comfortable.

  There'd been no time to spend alone with Simon as she'd been constantly in and out of the main hall greeting the next arrivals. Lord and Lady Danbury and their silly daughters had been tardy and had only just ascended to their apartment on the family side of the house.

  'Well, I can't tell you how pleased I am that this wretched place has finally been of some use to us,' her mother said.

  'I'm sure that Simon and I will entertain on a grand scale once we're married and you will be able to join in without having all the fuss to worry about.'

  'Your papa has employed a musical trio for the duration of the house party. Two to play violins and the other the piano. He insists there will be dancing tonight and every night. I've never seen him so jubilant.'

  'Is the thought of my marrying an aristocrat so pleasing to him?'

  'No, I think that finding his fleet was not lost entirely is what's making him so happy. Also, he finally admitted that he disliked this house as much as we do and is eager to live somewhere more comfortable.'

  'I just checked the dining room. I'd no idea the central table pulled out to seat so many. It will be a sad crush having everyone around it but better than a dozen or so sitting in the breakfast parlour.'

  'We cannot linger here, Bella, we must retire to our rooms and begin our preparations for the evening. Champagne is to be served in the drawing room at five o'clock so please make sure you arrive before that.'

  Her mother, despite her advancing years, was surprisingly light on her feet and ran up the staircase beside her. Annie had put out the evening gown that she'd chosen from the dozen she had in her closet.

  As she had bathed two days ago there was no need to repeat the process and a quick wash was all that was necessary. She sat in her underpinnings whilst her maid dressed her hair. Tonight, she was wearing a parure of diamonds and emeralds that papa had had made especially for her on one of his trips to India.

  It was almost a quarter to five o'clock before she was ready to leave her room. Her silk evening ensemble consisted of a pale green underskirt and silver net overskirt. Her evening slippers and gloves were emerald silk to match her jewellery.

  'There, miss, you look like a princess. There'll be no other young lady as beautiful as you.'

  Bella viewed herself from all sides in the long glass and was forced to admit she'd never looked better. The emeralds in her tiara sparkled against her russet hair, the necklace, ear-bobs and her emerald betrothal ring completed the picture.

  If only her beloved could walk in beside her then everything would be perfect. In this ensemble hurrying was not advisable as the material was flimsy and the slightest tug might tear it. 'I just heard Lady Emily come out of her apartment. I'll go down with her.'

  Her future sister looked quite spectacular. 'I'm so glad you have also ignored the rule for debutantes and have worn colour. Gold and buttercup yellow are perfect with your dark colouring.'

  They linked arms and made their careful way along the passage and down the staircase. She hoped Simon would be waiting for her in his chair but the only occupants of the hall were three of the officers – she misremembered their names – but two were captains and one a major, and all handsome young men looking magnificent in their finest regimentals.

  The hand resting on her arm tightened. She glanced across at Emily and saw her friend was paying particular attention to the major. Was this how the land lay? Had Mrs Featherstone's acquaintances been included so that particular officer could be present?

  The major saw them coming and marched parade ground stiff to the foot of the staircase. The other two followed suit.

  Bella curtsied and Emily did the same. The officers introduced themselves again and after much bowing and fussing they were escorted into the drawing room. After her initial reservations about being paid so much attention she began to relax and enjoy herself and quite forgot that she should have been waiting for her betrothed, and not flirting with handsome officers, however harmless this might be.

  *

  Simon had been practising swinging around his apartment on his crutches for the past two days and was confident he wo
uld be able to maintain his balance and his dignity for the entire evening. He couldn't wait to see the face of his beloved girl when she saw him upright.

  It had taken slightly longer than he'd anticipated to adjust his adapted evening trousers and to be certain he looked the best he could in the circumstances.

  'Remain near enough for me to call you if I need your assistance tonight, Mason.'

  'Yes, my lord.'

  Fortunately, the distance from his ground floor apartment to the main reception rooms was not so far that he would be tired before he entered the drawing room. His intention had been to be in the hall as she approached but he realised most of the guests were already mingling. He would be unable to make his entrance as he'd hoped.

  He paused in the doorway and from his height had the advantage of being able to see over the heads of most of the occupants. At first, he couldn't see her, then, when one of the broad-shouldered officers moved aside he saw her laughing up at him.

  An emotion he didn't recognise surged through him and he was about to barge his way across and make his displeasure clear to her and her admirers when he reconsidered. God's teeth! He was jealous and that wasn't a pleasant thing to be. Why shouldn't Bella enjoy the evening and the admiration of the gentlemen surrounding her?

  Then she looked across and saw him. Her expression changed and he knew in that moment that she reciprocated his feelings. Ignoring the officers, she gathered her skirts and ran towards him.

  'Why didn't you tell me you could walk again? I should have preferred to come in with you. Those officers are quite tiresome, you know. My face aches from being obliged to smile at their nonsense.'

  'Step into the hall with me. There's something I must say to you and should have told you two weeks ago.'

  She didn't argue and they moved away from the doorway so they could not be seen by those inside the chamber.

  'There's something I must tell you too. Shall you go first, or will I?'

  He braced his shoulder against the panelling and drew her close. 'I love you, my darling, and have done so since the moment I set eyes on you.'

  Her squeal of joy brought several curious guests from the drawing room. He ignored them all.

  'I love you too. I can't tell you when it happened but I realised last week and didn't know if I should tell you.'

  He tightened his grip and she came willingly. Her soft curves were pressed against his chest. She tilted her face so he could kiss her.

  A considerable time later he raised his head, too moved to speak. He reached up and straightened her tiara which had come adrift during their passionate embrace.

  'Darling, I hope you don't intend to flirt with those military gentlemen all evening.'

  She stood on tiptoe and kissed him lightly. 'Even if I wished to, after the icy glare you gave them I doubt any of them would dare to come within two yards of me.'

  'I was consumed by jealousy for a moment. I'm ashamed of myself for feeling thus as I know you were only being polite.'

  'My love, I cannot wait to be your wife and start my new life with you elsewhere.'

  'I'm the luckiest man in Christendom to have found you.' He grinned and kissed the tip of her nose. 'I would have married you if you'd been penniless but your inheritance will make our lives so much easier.'

  'And I would have married you if you were a commoner but being a countess will be rather splendid.'

  In perfect harmony they rejoined the company. He was well aware of the envious glances he received from not only the single gentlemen but the married ones as well.

  They drifted into the dining room and he and Bella were seated at the head of the table, Burgoyne and his wife were to the left, and his sister and Mrs Featherstone on the right.

  Champagne was poured and this time he was able to pick up his glass – doing so when balancing on his crutch was an impossibility. His future father-in-law stood up and the table fell silent.

  'Thank you all for coming here and I hope you enjoy your stay. You will see in front of you an itinerary listing the events and activities that have been arranged for you all. Next weekend culminates in the most important occasion – the marriage of my only child to Lord Sawsbury.' He raised his glass and everyone at the table, apart from Bella and himself, stood up with their own glasses charged.

  'To the future Earl and Countess of Sawsbury.'

  *

  The toast was drunk and there was not a soul sitting around that table who did not see at once that this was not an arranged marriage, as they had supposed, but a love match. Any of the guests who had harboured a lingering doubt about Miss Burgoyne's honour put it to one side. The earl and his future countess could start their married life with unblemished reputations. Everyone agreed they had never seen a happier couple.

  THE END

  SPRING MUSLINS

  A sparkling Regency romance

  by

  Melinda Hammond

  SPRING MUSLINS

  A sparkling Regency Romance by

  Melinda Hammond

  Upon the death of her father, Miss Lucia Luckington returns from school to discover that her meagre inheritance is not enough to keep herself, her cousin Grace and their old governess, Miss Morrison. Something must be done.

  Lucia comes up with a Grand Plan to make Grace a successful seamstress, but it will require the efforts of all three ladies to make it work. However, what seemed such a simple idea when they were in Little Furzewell becomes much more complicated in fashionable London, and brings Lucia in direct conflict with that notable Corinthian, Sir Darius Claversham.

  Together with her cousin and her friend, Lucia works hard to make a success of her Grand Plan but in the end, the results are very different from what she had envisaged!

  "…Melinda Hammond writes a heart-warming, Austen-ish style historical romance…" (Romance Reader at Heart, Thoughts & Ponderings)

  "Melinda Hammond is one of the brightest stars in the Regency firmament. Her plots are fast-paced, her characterization impeccable and her ability to evoke the past in a vivid and colorful way superb!" (www.singletitles.com)

  CHAPTER ONE

  1813

  It was only September but a chill, blustery wind was blowing from the north when the mail coach pulled up at the market cross in Little Furzewell. The horses snorted and stamped impatiently as the guard jumped down and opened the door for a solitary female to alight. He was not one to bestir himself for his passengers, but he had decided to make an exception for the dainty female who had given him such a sweet smile when she had embarked. Who could fail to take a fatherly interest in such a pleasant young lady, with her pansy-brown eyes set in a heart-shaped face, framed by dusky curls that were kept in check by a modest bonnet? She thanked him prettily and gave him a coin when he handed over her portmanteau, and he touched his hat, wishing her a very good day.

  The young lady turned away and crossed the square, struggling to carry her bag while keeping her cloak pulled tight with one hand and using the other to prevent her bonnet from being blown away. Somehow, she succeeded and eventually arrived at her destination, a small house just off the square.

  Her appearance was expected, for as she walked up the short path the door opened and a girlish figure in a dimity gown ran out to meet her.

  ‘Lucia, Lucia! Oh, how glad I am to see you!’

  Miss Luckington dropped her bag just in time to be enveloped in a fierce hug.

  ‘And I you, Cousin!’ she declared laughing.

  Her travelling bag was swept up and she was almost dragged inside, her companion chattering all the time.

  ‘We have been looking out for you since dawn, Lucy. Poor Morry has been in agonies, fearing an accident, or highwayman, or any number of disasters!’

  ‘Now that is quite enough, Grace.’ An angular figure tending the fire straightened and turned towards the door, waving her poker in a most alarming manner. ‘Stop teasing Lucia and come in and close the door before we lose all the heat.’ Miss Phoebe Morrison’s rath
er harsh face softened as she looked at the newcomer. She put down the poker and said quietly, ‘Welcome home, my dear.’

  With something like a sob Lucia gave up trying to unfasten the ties of her cloak and ran forward, throwing herself into the older woman’s arms.

  ‘Oh Morry, I have missed you all so much!’

  There followed a few moments of confusion until at last Lucia had divested herself of her bonnet and cloak and was seated in the best chair beside the fire with Grace on a stool beside her while Miss Morrison busied herself with the kettle and teapot.

  ‘I wish I had come home earlier,’ said Lucia, accepting a cup of tea.

  ‘Now, now, my dear, there was nothing you could do here, and you know your dear papa was adamant you should remain in Bath as long as possible.’ Only by the greatest exercise of willpower did Miss Morrison refrain from sniffing. ‘After all, Lady Quidenham has done little enough for you, and you her niece and goddaughter, too!’

  ‘Great niece,’ Lucia reminded her with a little smile. ‘Aunt Evadne was severely disappointed when Mama married for love rather than a fortune, we must be thankful she did anything for me.’

  ‘Sending you to the most select seminary in Bath was indeed good of her,’ put in Grace, fair-mindedly.

  ‘Appearances,’ Miss Morrison muttered darkly. ‘She is so rich she could do no less without being thought a nipcheese.’

  ‘Excuse me but she could have done a great deal less,’ Lucia corrected her. ‘Papa was so rude to her at Mama’s funeral four years ago that I was surprised when she wrote offering to pay for me to go to school. I expect,’ she added thoughtfully, ‘that she thought it might wean me away from what she called Papa’s disastrous influence.’

  ‘Lucia!’ Grace looked up at her, eyes wide. ‘She never said that to you.’

  ‘Oh yes she did. Last year, just after my eighteenth birthday. Aunt Evadne came to Bath to see me. She offered to take me in, as long as I cut all ties with Papa. It gave me great pleasure to refuse!’