Читать книгу Regency Surrender: Infamous Reputations - Sarah Mallory - Страница 13

Chapter Four

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.

The problem was, neither would she be able to keep the other fellows away. And knowing the prize at stake, some of them might prove much more unscrupulous than he. Today Richard had been fortunate. A few coins had elicited the information from her footman that Lady Phyllida was going to Sydney Gardens, and when he had seen Fullingham on his way to Charles Street he had been able to save him the trouble of calling by informing him that Lady Phyllida was not at home.

Remembering Ellen’s wish to see the labyrinth, he had made his way directly to this popular spot only to find Tesford and Cromby were there before him. From their brief conversation he realised that they had also bribed Lady Phyllida’s footman. Devil take it, the fellow would be able to retire from service at the end of the season if this continued! Luckily Richard had intercepted the ladies and persuaded them to take another route away from the labyrinth. Things had gone his way, but he would have to remain vigilant if he was to win the wager and the heiress for himself.

* * *

They had reached Laura Place, where the Wakefields stopped to take their leave. Richard turned to Phyllida.

‘Perhaps, ma’am, you will allow me to escort you and Miss Tatham to Charles Street?’

‘That is very kind of you, Mr Arrandale, but we are not going directly home. I promised Ellen that we would do a little shopping in Milsom Street. To buy ribbons.’

Richard was not surprised at the lady’s response. She suspected his motives and it would be as well if he did not press his suit any further today. He was about to bow and take his leave when he noticed Sir Charles Urmston strolling towards them. He was coming from the direction of Pulteney Bridge but Richard did not doubt that he would turn back to escort the ladies to Milsom Street, given the chance. Richard had no intention of allowing him the opportunity, if he could help it.

He smiled. ‘Then allow me to escort you there. I am very good at choosing ribbons.’

‘Thank you.’ Phyllida shook her head. ‘However, we could not impose upon you any longer today.’

‘Oh, I am sure it could not be an imposition,’ put in Lady Wakefield, who overheard this exchange and had clearly fallen under Richard Arrandale’s spell. ‘I am old-fashioned enough to think it a good thing to have a gentleman’s escort when one walks about town, even in Bath.’

‘Oh, yes, pray do come with us, Mr Arrandale,’ said Ellen, just as Phyllida was about to make a firm denial. ‘I have seen a bonnet that I should like to buy. The milliner told me it is in the latest London fashion but I am not so sure, and I would value your opinion.’

‘Then I shall be happy to give it,’ he responded promptly.

‘There you are then,’ declared Lady Wakefield, smiling. ‘We shall bid you good day, Lady Phyllida.’

Phyllida pressed her lips together, trying to hide her dismay as Lady Wakefield went off with Julia and Adrian. Richard held out his arms.

‘Well, ladies, shall we go on?’

His laughing glance made Phyllida grind her teeth but she had no choice, she must accept gracefully. The alternative would be to face questions from Ellen, questions which she had no intention of answering with Richard Arrandale standing by. Such was her distraction that when they passed Sir Charles Urmston in Argyle Street, her response to his pleasant greeting was no more than a distant nod.

Phyllida said little as they made their way to Milsom Street, allowing Ellen to chatter on. When they reached the milliners Richard accompanied them inside to inspect the bonnet that had caught Ellen’s eye. It was a ruched bronze-satin creation decorated with an overabundance of flowers and tassels. Phyllida declared she thought it far from tasteful, but it was the doubtful look on Richard’s face that made Ellen change her mind and decide the bonnet was not for her after all. Phyllida was relieved, but perturbed by the thought that she should be grateful to Richard Arrandale.

They went on to the haberdashers, where Ellen browsed the rainbow of coloured ribbons that the assistant spread out for her inspection. There was barely room for two people to stand together at the counter and Phyllida hesitated before stepping back to let Richard move in and advise Ellen on her choice. Let that be his reward for dissuading her from buying the unsuitable bonnet.

Phyllida stood out of the way by a side door until Ellen had made her purchase, then she accompanied them out of the shop.

‘Well...’ She smiled. ‘Which ribbon did you decide upon?’

‘This one.’ Ellen opened the package to show Phyllida. ‘I could not decide between this and the primrose but in the end I chose the cornflower blue. Is it not a lovely colour?’ She added in an innocent voice, ‘Mr Arrandale said this matches my eyes.’

Ellen’s laughing glance was somewhat reassuring. Phyllida knew her stepdaughter was not taken in by such compliments. Not yet.

‘And he is right,’ she agreed, keeping her tone cool. ‘Shall we go on?’

They had not gone many yards down Milsom Street when Ellen gave a loud sigh.

‘Is it not always the same? Now that I have left the shop I am sure I should have bought the primrose ribbon as well as the blue.’

‘Well, it is too late to return now,’ said Phyllida. ‘I think it is going to rain. ‘Let us get on now, we can always come back tomorrow.’

Richard stopped.

‘I have an errand of my own to run,’ he said. ‘If you would like to continue with your shopping, I shall catch you up.’

He strode away before they had time to argue. Ellen giggled.

‘I do believe he is going back to buy the primrose ribbon for me.’

‘Oh, I hope not,’ said Phyllida. ‘I really do not wish to be beholden to Mr Arrandale.’

‘For a few pennies’ worth of ribbon?’ declared Ellen. ‘What harm can there be in that?’

‘He is not related to us, Ellen.’

‘But he is related to Lady Hune, who is a great friend of yours,’ argued Ellen.

They walked on, gazing into shop windows, marvelling at the variety of goods available in Bath and before too long Richard caught up with them.

‘Here we are.’ He handed Ellen a small packet. ‘Your primrose ribbons, Miss Tatham. And for you, ma’am,’ He handed a second even smaller package to Phyllida.

Peeping inside she saw a neatly rolled length of dark-green ribbon.

‘I thought of the gown you were wearing the first time I saw you,’ he murmured. ‘The colour became you so well.’ She raised her brows and he quickly corrected himself. ‘The first time I saw you in Bath, I mean.’

‘Oh?’ Ellen was immediately attentive. ‘I did not know you were already acquainted.’

‘Oh, yes,’ Richard nodded. ‘I knew your stepmama at her come-out. We danced together at Almack’s.’

His blue eyes bored into Phyllida, challenging her to contradict him, but in truth she could not speak, for his look heated her blood and sent her imagination skittering towards secret trysts and stolen kisses. Outrageous thoughts that had no place in a chaperon’s mind.

‘Oh, that is famous!’ cried Ellen, ‘Phyllida, why did you not tell me? If that is so I am sure there can be no objection at all to accepting Mr Arrandale’s gifts. I am very grateful for my ribbons, thank you, sir. Philly? Are you not going to thank Mr Arrandale?’

‘Well, Lady Phyllida?’

His eyes continued to hold her gaze, saying so much more than words. In their blue depths gleamed a mixture of amusement and understanding, an invitation for her to share the joke, to accept his friendship. Perhaps even more than that. All of it lies, of course. She had to believe that, or she was lost.

* * *

Richard waited for her answer. It would not have surprised him if she had handed the ribbon back but in the end she thanked him, albeit grudgingly, and they continued on their way. He escorted the ladies to Charles Street, left them at the door and turned to make his way back to Queen Square, well satisfied with his progress.

As soon as they were indoors, Phyllida dashed off to her bedchamber, saying there were letters she must write. She knew Ellen would want know about her acquaintance with Richard Arrandale and she needed to prepare her answers. She kept to her room and was thus able to avoid saying anything at all until after dinner.

When they were alone in the drawing room, Ellen placed a footstool before Phyllida’s chair and sat down upon it.

‘Now,’ she said, taking Phyllida’s hands, ‘why did you not tell me you and Mr Arrandale were old friends?’

‘We are not,’ Phyllida replied. ‘We are acquaintances, merely.’

‘But he says you danced together. Did you know him before you met Papa?’

‘I met them at the same time. It was my come-out. One dances with a lot of gentlemen in one’s first Season, as you will discover when we go to town next year.’

Ellen was not to be distracted. ‘And was Mr Arrandale as handsome as he is now?’

Phyllida had been managing rather well to stay calm and matter of fact, but this question caught her off guard. Her cheeks burned. She had not blushed for years, but these days she could not stop!

‘I—I suppose he must have been. I really cannot remember.’

But she could. She recalled every painful, tongue-tied moment she had spent with him. He had been charmingly polite, while she had been unable to do more than utter one or two stilted sentences.

‘I knew it!’ Ellen clapped her hands. ‘You fell in love with him!’

‘I did not!’

‘Then why are you blushing?’

Phyllida managed to laugh. ‘I was remembering what a gauche, awkward creature I was in those days.’ That much at least was true. ‘Now, Ellen, it is most improper for you to quiz me on this. As I told you, a girl in her first Season meets a lot of gentlemen but once she is married she forgets them all. I was very happy with your father, and I hope he was happy with me.’

‘But it was not a love match, was it?’ Ellen persisted. ‘I was only twelve years old at the time but I remember people saying so.’

‘Not everyone marries for love, Ellen, and not every family is as happy as we were at Tatham Park.’

Phyllida thought back to her own childhood. She was a younger daughter and not particularly pretty. She had also been painfully shy and constantly afraid of incurring her parents’ displeasure. It had been a relief when Sir Evelyn had offered for her and by the time her parents died two years later she was happily settled with Sir Evelyn. At his coaxing she had left off the pale pinks and blues her mother had chosen for her and given up the nightly ritual of tying up her hair in rags to produce a mass of unbecoming ringlets. Now she wore her hair swept up smoothly with only a few soft curls falling on to her neck. Sir Evelyn had given her a great deal, including confidence.

She said now, ‘Be assured that I was much more comfortable with your father than I had ever been at home.’

‘That is because they bullied you,’ replied Ellen. ‘Did they force you to marry Papa?’

‘Not at all, but I was expected to marry well.’

‘Well, that is quite, quite Gothic,’ declared Ellen. ‘I shall not allow anyone to force me into marriage.’

She looked so absurdly young that Phyllida smiled. She squeezed her hands.

‘I hope when the time comes you will fall in love, Ellen, but I also hope you will not be in too much of a hurry to do so.’

‘Oh, no. I am enjoying myself far too much to think of such things yet.’

Phyllida was relieved to hear this, but she did not say so and turned Ellen’s thoughts by asking her what she intended to wear to the Italian concert the following evening.

* * *

To Phyllida’s secret pride, Ellen was proving to be universally popular. The house in Charles Street was besieged by visitors and there were entertainments every day. It was becoming clear that several gentlemen were vying for Ellen’s attention, including Richard Arrandale, and Phyllida was relieved, if a little surprised, that the other young ladies of Bath were not more jealous of her success. However, she was perturbed to see how much attention the gentlemen lavished upon Ellen and could only be glad that her stepdaughter appeared to take it all in her stride.

Phyllida insisted that Ellen should be chaperoned at all times. When the party comprised young people under the aegis of careful mamas like Mrs Desborough or Lady Wakefield Phyllida was happy to allow Ellen to go unattended, but at the public breakfasts and dances Phyllida was always there to ensure no gentleman stepped out of line. As an heiress, Phyllida had always known Ellen would attract attention, but there were a number of married men amongst her admirers, and that was a puzzle.

Her puzzlement turned to concern when they attended the recital at the Assembly Rooms the evening following their walk in Sydney Gardens and Phyllida returned from a break for refreshments to find her stepdaughter in an antechamber with Mr Cromby. The gentleman was holding Ellen’s hand and paying her the most fulsome compliments. Phyllida lost no time in carrying Ellen away, but when she remonstrated with Ellen later she merely laughed.

‘We were only a step away from the main room, Philly. You really did not need to worry. We had gentlemen far older than Mr Cromby flirting with us at Mrs Ackroyd’s Academy.’

‘That is not the point,’ objected Phyllida, despairing. ‘Bath is a hotbed of gossip and you will do your reputation no good at all if people think you fast.’

In no wise chastened, Ellen threw her arms about Phyllida and hugged her.

‘Very well, I will try to behave, for your sake, darling Stepmama. But I do enjoy being the centre of so much attention!’

* * *

There was no doubt that Ellen was indeed in demand. The parties and entertainments, together with Ellen’s dancing, singing and Italian lessons, gave Phyllida little time for leisure. Ellen thrived upon the activity and Phyllida made sure she was always accompanied whenever she stepped out of the door. However, she soon discovered that even the presence of Ellen’s maid did not keep Richard Arrandale away. She was in the morning room waiting for Ellen to return from her dancing lesson when she saw him pass the window with Ellen on his arm. He left Ellen at the door but Phyllida watched in growing alarm as he raised Ellen’s fingers to his lips before striding away.

Phyllida was dismayed at her reaction to this gesture but she was honest enough to admit that the emotion uppermost in her was envy. She stifled it immediately, composing herself as Ellen burst into the morning room with her sunny smile quite undimmed.

‘Did I see Mr Arrandale at the door with you?’ Phyllida kept her voice light, determined not to show undue anxiety.

‘Yes. We met in Wood Street and he insisted upon escorting me home. Was that not kind of him?’

‘Yes, very.’

She said no more at the time, but as the conversation moved on Phyllida knew she must speak to Matlock about the matter.

* * *

However, when she did so Matty’s response was typically blunt.

‘What would you have me do, my lady? Miss Ellen greeted him like a friend and I could hardly forbid him to walk with us. And even if it had been in my power I would not have done so, for nothing is more certain to make a spirited girl want something than to tell her she can’t have it.’

Phyllida nodded. ‘I am well aware of that, Matlock. And Miss Ellen is definitely spirited.’

‘But nothing untoward happened,’ added the maid. ‘I can assure you of that, ma’am. In fact, I was pleasantly surprised in Mr Arrandale, after all I had heard about the man.’

‘Oh, Matty, pray do not tell me you are falling under his spell, too.’

The older woman gave a grim little smile.

‘No, no, I’m too long in the tooth to be taken in by a handsome face, my lady, but credit where ’tis due, the gentleman never said anything out o’ place while he was escorting Miss Ellen. And he made no attempt to lower his voice to avoid my hearing it, either.’

‘Well, perhaps there is some good in the man, after all,’ murmured Phyllida, but she added, her suspicions not completely allayed, ‘Or perhaps he is playing a deep game.’