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‘It was,’ agreed Phyllida as they began to walk on. ‘The gossip has died down now in Bath but it is still mentioned occasionally, even though Lady Cassandra is married and gone out of the country.’
‘I had not thought of it before,’ said Ellen slowly, ‘but as exciting as an elopement is for the couple involved, there must be a great deal of horrid scandal to be endured by the family left behind.’
‘I am glad you realise that, my love.’
Ellen slipped her arm through Phyllida’s and gave it a quick squeeze.
‘Do not sound so serious, Philly, I have no intention of eloping.’ She added, with a mischievous gurgle of laughter in her voice, ‘And woe betide any man who tries to persuade me to it!’
Chapter Four (#ulink_3a2a71fc-b45a-57ce-b86b-cc52ea621490)
The dancing had already started when Richard arrived at the Upper Rooms on Monday night. Miss Tatham was going down the dance with Henry Fullingham and he had leisure to admire her golden beauty, which was in no way dimmed by the simplicity of her embroidered muslin. As he stood waiting for the music to end he wondered if he had been wise to leave his arrival so late. The other gentlemen present would not waste any time in securing a dance with such a diamond. But his doubt was only momentary, and when Ellen’s partner escorted her back to Lady Phyllida, Richard made his way through the crowd towards them.
Ellen greeted him with a smile of unaffected delight and an assurance that she had saved a dance for him. The widow, he noted, had looked composed, even serene, until she saw him approaching and then a slight frown creased her brow. He must try to reassure her.
‘I hope you do not object, my lady?
‘Not at all, Mr Arrandale.’
The frown was put to flight by a smile and he thought how well it became her, warming her eyes and turning them a soft green. Or perhaps that was merely the reflection from her gown of sage-coloured silk. It was fashioned in the Greek style, falling in soft folds from the high waistline. Her hair was piled up and held in place by bands of matching green ribbon with a single glossy ringlet allowed to fall to her shoulder. It attracted his gaze to the flawless skin exposed by the low neckline of her gown.
A single teardrop diamond was suspended on a gold chain around her neck, drawing his attention to the shadowed valley between the softly rounded breasts. His thoughts strayed. In his imagination he was slowly untying the ribbons of the gown and pushing it aside while he laid a trail of kisses down the slender column of her neck and into that same valley...
‘Mr Arrandale?’
He started as Phyllida interrupted his reverie.
‘The sets are forming for the next dance.’
‘What? Oh, yes.’
His eyes searched her face. Could she have read his thoughts? The hint of a smile in her own and the direct way she met his gaze made him hopeful she had not.
‘Ellen is waiting, Mr Arrandale.’
The gentle reproof in her voice finally recalled his wandering attention. He took Ellen’s hand and led her to the dance floor, but for all the perfection of his dancing partner, Richard could not quite shake off the image of Lady Phyllida’s softly twinkling eyes. She was not conventionally pretty, but there was something very striking about Lady Phyllida Tatham that made it impossible to forget her.
* * *
Phyllida retreated to the benches against the wall to watch the dancing. There was no denying that Ellen and Richard Arrandale made a handsome couple. She noted that Mr Fullingham was still hovering nearby, clearly hoping to secure another dance with Ellen, but there were several other young gentlemen who had not yet stood up with her, and Phyllida would not allow any man more than two dances with her stepdaughter.
* * *
By the time the music was suspended for the interval, Phyllida knew that Ellen was a success. Not that she had ever doubted it, for her stepdaughter had beauty, poise and elegance, not to mention the fortune she would inherit when she reached one-and-twenty. She had danced every dance and there were still gentlemen waiting for the opportunity to stand up with her. Ellen’s present partner was Sir Charles Urmston, who accompanied them to the tea room, where supper was set out on sideboards. Phyllida was pleased to note that Ellen did not appear to favour the gentleman over any of her other admirers. She chatted away quite happily, but showed no sign of discontent when he left them.
‘Are you enjoying yourself, my love?’
‘Oh, immensely,’ declared Ellen, her eyes shining. ‘Everyone is so kind and the Upper Rooms are so grand, compared to the George, which is where we attended the assemblies with Mrs Ackroyd. And the company is superior, too. So many gentlemen, when we were used to dance mainly with the local farmers and their sons. But Mrs Ackroyd maintained that it was very good practice and she was right, for I was not at all nervous when I stepped on to the dance floor here tonight.’
‘Did you expect to be?’
Ellen’s brow wrinkled. ‘I am not sure—yes, I suppose I did, for I had never attended a real grown-up ball before, but it is the most tremendous fun. Oh, Philly! How can you bear to sit and watch? I know you love to dance!’
Phyllida had indeed felt a little pang of envy as she had watched her stepdaughter skipping around the floor, but now she said lightly, ‘I am your chaperon, Ellen. How can I look after you if I am enjoying myself on the dance floor?’
‘Oh, I do not need looking after,’ came the cheerful reply. ‘I am very well able to look after myself. So if we come again, Philly, promise me you will dance. I hate to see you sitting on the benches like an old lady.’
‘As to that, my love, we shall see. I do not want the mortification of having no one ask me to stand up with them.’
‘Oh, that won’t happen,’ replied Ellen. ‘I shall refuse to stand up with any gentleman unless he has danced with you first!’
When the music started up again Ellen’s hand was claimed by Mr Cromby. Phyllida watched the pair closely, not sure how Ellen would deal with the elderly roué. He was clearly paying her the most fulsome compliments whenever the movement of the dance allowed it, but her mind was greatly relieved when Ellen passed close by and threw her a look brimming with mischief.
* * *
It was not far from the Assembly Rooms to Charles Street, but Phyllida had arranged for her carriage to collect them. It was an extravagance, but she deemed it worthwhile, since they need not accept any of the numerous offers to escort them home. As they settled themselves into the carriage she asked Ellen how she had enjoyed her first ridotto.
‘Oh, I liked it very much,’ came the enthusiastic reply. ‘I do not think I missed a single dance.’
‘I can vouch for the fact!’ declared Phyllida. She asked, trying not to show concern, ‘And was there a favourite amongst your partners?’
Ellen was quiet for a moment as she considered the question.
‘Everyone was most kind. Sir Charles Urmston was very charming, was he not? You will recall he was the gentleman who escorted us to tea. And Adrian Wakefield, Julia’s brother.’ Ellen laughed. ‘The poor boy was so afraid of missing his steps he barely spoke two words to me.’
‘It was most likely his first grown-up entertainment, too.’
‘Yes, I think so. But, of all the gentlemen who were present tonight, I think I liked Mr Arrandale the best, do you not agree?’
Phyllida’s heart sank. She replied with forced lightness, ‘Why I hardly know, how can one tell from so short an acquaintance?’
‘Unfair, Philly! After all, you asked me if I had a favourite.’
‘So I did.’ Hastily she begged pardon.
‘Which of them do you think would make the best husband?’
‘Why none of them. You are far too young to be thinking of such things.’
Ellen laughed. ‘You are quite right, but I thought it a question that would never be far from a mother’s mind. Even a stepmother.’
This was so true that Phyllida did not know how to respond and she was relieved that the carriage had arrived at their door, where she was spared the necessity of answering. She followed Ellen into the house and sent her upstairs with Matlock, who was waiting to hear all about her young mistress’s success in the ballroom.
* * *
The following day saw several calling cards left at Charles Street as well as a couple of bouquets. There was nothing, however, from Richard Arrandale. Phyllida wondered if the omission was deliberate, intended to pique Ellen’s interest, but perhaps she was becoming far too cynical. Putting aside such thoughts, Phyllida suggested they should walk to Sydney Gardens, and since Lord and Lady Wakefield lived in Laura Place, which was on their way, they might call and ask if Julia would like to go with them. Ellen agreed eagerly and as soon as they had breakfasted the pair set off.
By happy chance Lady Wakefield and her children were just preparing to walk to the gardens themselves and they were only too pleased to make up a party. The ridotto had cemented the young people’s friendship and even Mr Adrian Wakefield had overcome his shyness enough to offer Ellen his arm as they set off along the Ride, the main route around the gardens. The three young people were soon chattering away together, leaving Phyllida to walk behind with Lady Wakefield. The two ladies were soon on friendly terms, but they had not gone far when Ellen’s voice alerted Phyllida to danger.
‘Oh, look. It is Mr Arrandale!’
Phyllida saw Richard’s familiar figure approaching from one of the narrower side paths. His eyes were fixed upon Ellen and it was easy to envisage what would happen next. He would have no difficulty in separating Ellen from the others and once he had her on his arm she would feel the full force of his attraction. Quickly Phyllida stepped on to the path, blocking his way and holding out her hand to him.
‘Mr Arrandale, good day to you, sir. Have you come to take pity upon us? You will see that the younger members of our party have left Lady Wakefield and me without an escort. We feel shamefully neglected.’
He stopped, looking faintly surprised but to his credit he covered it well.
‘That is easily resolved,’ he said with his ready smile. ‘I shall escort you.’
Julia looked a little disappointed and Ellen intrigued, but Phyllida kept her smile in place as she laid her fingers on the gentleman’s sleeve. She avoided the questioning look Lady Wakefield threw at her. She had never put herself forward in such a way before. She felt dreadfully fast.
‘We are going to the labyrinth,’ Ellen informed him. ‘Have you been there, sir?’
‘Why, yes, I have,’ Richard replied. ‘However I believe it is very crowded today. It must be an apprentices’ holiday or some such thing.’
‘Indeed?’ uttered Lady Wakefield, dismay in her voice. ‘It will be dreadfully noisy, then.’
‘They can be a little boisterous, too,’ he added. ‘Especially if they have visited the ale house.’
‘Then let us leave the labyrinth for another day,’ suggested Julia, looking nervous.
‘Yes, I think that might be best, especially since it is so hot,’ agreed Phyllida, thinking of how easy it would be for Richard to be alone with Ellen in a maze. She raised her hand and pointed. ‘That path winds through the trees. It looks very picturesque and has the advantage of being quiet and shady. But you have just come that way, Mr Arrandale. We must not ask you to retrace your steps.’
He was not so easily dismissed and replied with a bland smile, ‘Not at all, ma’am. I am only too delighted to escort you.’
The party set off again, the younger ones leading the way, Lady Wakefield and Phyllida on either side of Mr Arrandale. Phyllida was still trying to recover from her own forwardness. She had never before accosted a gentleman so brazenly and for a while she was unable to make conversation. Thankfully Lady Wakefield was not similarly disabled. It was clear from their conversation that Mr Arrandale was on friendly terms with Adrian Wakefield and had thus earned the approval of that young man’s fond mama and they were soon discussing the pleasures of Bath. Phyllida was happy to let them continue, until she heard Lady Wakefield mention the forthcoming ride to Farleigh Castle.
‘My great-aunt is related to the owners of Farleigh House, you know,’ he said.
‘Yes, Lady Hune has kindly given us an introduction. The housekeeper is to provide refreshments for us at the house,’ replied Lady Wakefield. ‘I am very glad the family is not at home, for I should feel awkward imposing upon them, but now we can be easy. We are all looking forward to it. Julia has been reading about the castle in a book of local antiquities.’
‘It sounds a delightful party, ma’am. I believe Farleigh Castle is well worth a visit. Indeed I should like to see it myself.’
‘Then why do you not join us, Mr Arrandale?’ Lady Wakefield gave a little laugh. ‘We are planning to go a week on Monday. We should be pleased to have you with us in any case, but since you are related to Lady Hune that would make your presence even more welcome.’
Phyllida held her breath, hoping he would refuse. Hoping he might even be planning to leave Bath before then.
‘How kind of you, Lady Wakefield. I can think of nothing I should like more.’
‘Excellent. Do you hear that, Julia?’ Lady Wakefield raised her voice and the three young people stopped obligingly. ‘Mr Arrandale is joining us on our trip to Farleigh.’
‘That is wonderful news,’ cried Ellen.
Her obvious delight in this addition to the party dismayed Phyllida. It prompted her to say gaily, ‘I must admit the idea of the Gothic ruin intrigues me. Would you object if I made one of your party, too, ma’am?’
‘Not at all, my dear, I am very pleased that you have decided to join us.’
They had now reached a section of the gravel path that had become seriously overgrown and was only wide enough for them to pass one at a time. Phyllida stood back to allow Lady Wakefield to precede her, but as she picked her way along the narrow path her spine tingled with the knowledge that Richard Arrandale was at her back. She heard his voice close behind.
‘So you did not originally intend to join the party to Farleigh Castle,’ he said. ‘What made you change your mind?’
‘It sounds too delightful to be missed.’
‘I wondered if you were having second thoughts about allowing Miss Tatham to go without you.’
‘Oh, heavens, no. Ellen is very sensible. I would have no worries about her riding out with the Wakefields.’
At least, I would not if you were not one of the party.
Phyllida walked on quickly. Would there come a time when she would have to tell Richard that he must stay away from her stepdaughter? A quiet voice said she should hint him away now, before Ellen lost her heart, but she was very much afraid that hints would not work with Richard Arrandale, not if he had set his heart upon winning the heiress. She must be direct, then. Her mind shied away from such an action, it was not in her nature to confront anyone. She comforted herself by remembering Ellen’s assurances that she had no intention of rushing into marriage, but hard upon the memory came the thought that falling in love was not something one could command. Phyllida mentally braced herself. She would do whatever was necessary to protect Ellen.
The winding path widened and Richard resumed his place between the ladies. They came up with the younger members of their party at the park gates, where Julia and her brother were arguing about who was the best rider. They called upon their mother to adjudicate and the three of them walked ahead into Great Pulteney Street, deep in conversation.
Richard smiled. ‘That leaves me to escort you, ladies. If you will permit?’
Ellen immediately took his proffered arm and Phyllida was obliged to fall in on the other side. She listened with growing unease as Ellen chattered away as if she had known Richard Arrandale for years. The man was so charming and attentive it would be no wonder if he turned Ellen’s head. As soon as there was a break in the conversation Phyllida addressed him.
‘How long are you planning to stay in Bath, Mr Arrandale?’
‘That depends rather upon my great-aunt. She has not been well, you know.’
‘I do know it, but when we took tea on Sunday she assured me she is much recovered now. And with the season here about to begin I feel sure there will be distractions enough to amuse her. However I have no doubt you would find them a little tame, sir.’
‘Why do you say that, Philly?’ cried Ellen. ‘It sounds almost as if you wish Mr Arrandale to leave Bath.’
‘Not at all,’ she replied coolly. ‘I am merely saying that the coming season will provide Lady Hune with more diversions, and she has many friends here, too, so you must not think that she will be without company, Mr Arrandale.’
‘I do not see that anyone would want to leave Bath,’ remarked Ellen. ‘Why, there are concerts and balls, and the shops—the finest outside London, I dare say!’
Richard laughed. ‘When you put it like that, Miss Tatham, I am tempted to remain here all winter.’
No! The idea was intolerable.
Phyllida said quickly, ‘But you have estates of your own, do you not, sir? They must require a great deal of your time.’
‘I have Brookthorn Manor, in Hampshire, but there is nothing there that cannot wait.’ Amusement rippled through his voice. ‘Why, Lady Phyllida, is Miss Tatham correct, are you trying to get rid of me?’
She managed a lighthearted laugh. ‘Not at all, sir.’
‘No, of course she isn’t,’ declared Ellen. ‘Why should she wish to do that?’
‘Why indeed?’ he murmured.
Phyllida risked glancing up and read such amusement in his eyes that she quickly looked away again, her face flaming. Angrily she told herself not to be so foolish. If he knew she was aware of his intentions then so much the better.
* * *
Richard’s lips twitched. Really, Lady Phyllida looked quite delightful when she was blushing and the urge to tease her was almost irresistible. He also felt unusually protective. She was far too young and inexperienced in the ways of the world: how could she hope to protect her stepdaughter from the wolves that were hunting her, himself included? True, she had managed to keep him from having Ellen to himself on this occasion, but she would not always be able to keep him at bay.
