Regency High Society Vol 1: A Hasty Betrothal / A Scandalous Marriage / The Count's Charade / The Rake and the Rebel

Chapter Three

Harriet had suffered a restless night in her rose bedchamber. Her head ached and parts of her body felt very sore as she tossed and turned in the big bed. She was glad that it was not a four-poster, as she had always hated them, slightly fearful that someone may be prowling around beyond the closed bedcurtains.

Having spent most of her youth in Spain and Portugal, she disliked being shut in, preferring open spaces and wide skies. She had discovered, to her surprise, that she loved the lush greenness of England and, even though she had also found that she was expected to conform to the rigid pattern of behaviour required of an English miss, she had eventually settled into her new life as a gentleman farmer’s daughter quite contentedly.

However, although occasional digressions still occurred, her stubbornness still had to be held firmly in check, especially if she felt that her wishes were being unreasonably overridden, and her father had often had cause to wonder from whence this mulish streak had come. Her mother could only suppose that it must have been inherited from her Scottish forebears, once reminding her husband that her own father’s cussedness had been legend in his lands and who,

Harriet had been subsequently informed, had continued to earn this reputation over the succeeding years.

Harriet wondered if he would respond to Lady Caroline’s missive. She had intended arriving, unannounced, on his doorstep, confident of her ability to win round the dear old gentleman she had supposed him to be but, after her conversation with the countess, she was no longer so sure of herself. In fact, he sounded a rather disagreeable sort of fellow, refusing to have anything to do with Mama just because she had wanted to marry darling Papa. He must be slightly touched in his upper quarters, she decided, pulling the quilt around her. Mama had seldom spoken about him and it was only after Papa’s death that she had told her daughter that she believed him to be still alive, having read of some Highland clearance dispute with which he was involved. Hearing that he had taken a sympathetic view of the Highlanders’ plight had been the main reason that Harriet had elected to seek out her grandfather. She could have succeeded too, she fulminated resentfully, had not that fool coachman knocked her down. Then, that arrogant Sandford! Carting her off like so much baggage! And in the opposite direction, too! And now, she had to pretend to be engaged to him! What a disappointment he had turned out to be! A small tear crept from her eye as she took stock of her situation and, sniffing, she realised forlornly that she would have to make the best of it until a better opportunity presented itself—the words her father had been wont to use if ever he heard her complaining about her lot. She drifted off to sleep, beset by dreams of marching columns, speeding coaches and Viscount Sandford, surrounded by hundreds of tartan sheep!

The following morning at breakfast, Sandford announced his intention of riding over to Westpark to introduce hi ‘betrothed’ to the Hursts. He nodded briskly to Harriet, who glowered at him over the rim of her cup.

‘If you could arrange to be ready in half an hour, I shall have the horses saddled.’

‘Oh, I’m afraid I cannot accompany you,’ she countered. ‘I have no habit, although I dare say could wear my breeches, of course,’ she offered pertly.

Lady Caroline frowned at her and shook her head. ‘Don’t be naughty, my child. You must not tease him. He has not yet got out of the way of giving orders.’ She turned to her son and smiled. ‘I have arranged for Madame Armande to bring her seamstresses to us this morning, my dear. If you could wait until Miss Cordell has some suitable garments I am sure she will be happy to accompany you. You will want her to make a good impression, I know—especially on Lady Butler.’ Her eyes twinkled as she saw her words take effect.

‘As you say, ma’am,’ replied Sandford, rising. ‘Then I shall go up to see how Father does and tend to other business instead. Your servant, ladies.’ He bowed in Harriet’s direction and left the room.

‘He’s very high-handed, isn’t he?’ Harriet said, in some surprise at his sudden departure, and strangely disappointed that he had refused to rise to her bait.

Her ladyship patted her hand. ‘He has been used to making decisions, my dear,’ she said. ‘And, like yourself perhaps, he has been out of Society for so long that he forgets how it goes on. You must not mind him.’

Looking at the clock on the mantel-shelf, she rose to her feet. ‘Come, now we must attend to Madame. She will be waiting in the sewing-room and we have a lot to get through.’

The next few hours were a test of stamina, with Harriet being pushed and pulled and pinned and measured until her head was in a whirl. Madame had brought several garments ready-made, which were to be altered to fit her at once, in addition to the many bolts of various fabrics that she offered for Lady Caroline’s inspection.

At last, the countess took Harriet down for the cold luncheon that had been laid out for them in the dining-room. Sandford was nowhere to be seen. Harriet supposed him to be about his ‘other business'. She, herself, was desperate to get out into the fresh air and was about to ask her ladyship’s permission to take a walk on the terrace when March entered and announced a visitor.

‘The Honourable Mrs Hurst, my lady,’ he intoned grandly, and a tall, raven-haired beauty swept in past him.

‘Judith, my dear!’ The countess rose from her seat. ‘I was not expecting you, surely? Not that you need an invitation, to be sure. Sit down, please—you will see we are still at lunch—such a busy morning we have had!’

Judith Hurst took a seat at the table, gracefully arranging the skirts of her black riding-habit and removing her gloves. Her soft brown eyes rested on Harriet with open curiosity as she spoke, her words almost tripping over themselves in her breathless haste.

‘I confess to being all agog, Belle-Mere! Mother has sent me over to see how Lord William does and I have just this moment seen Madame Armande’s equipage leaving Beldale. Forgive my vulgar curiosity, but I cannot contain myself as to what it is all about!’

Lady Caroline was forced into making an instant decision. Little as she cared to deceive her daughter-in-law, of whom she was very fond, she knew her to be somewhat featherbrained. One of the reasons dear Philip had loved her, the countess supposed but, nevertheless, she doubted Judith’s ability to keep the bones of this secret to herself or, more especially, from her mother, which Lady Caroline knew was

Sandford’s main objective. Her mind worked quickly and she rose, moving to stand beside Harriet’s chair and, placing her hand on the girl’s shoulder, she announced, ‘Allow me to introduce you to Robert’s betrothed, my dear. This is Miss Harriet Cordell.’

Judith Hurst’s eyes widened in amazement, then her face became wreathed in smiles as she clapped her hands together.

‘Is it true, then? Is he engaged at last?’ She, too, rose from her seat and came to Harriet’s side. ‘How truly delightful! I am so happy for you both. Do say we shall be friends, dear Miss Cordell.’

Harriet, by now full of embarrassment, was attempting to gather her wits in order to make some suitable reply when, to her relief, Sandford entered the room and, striding forward, held out his hands to his sister-in-law.

‘How well you look, dear Judith,’ he said, with a welcoming grin. ‘Still the prettiest girl in the county, I see.’

There was a moment’s awkward silence before Judith, laughing, pushed him away in mock dismay.

‘Oh, Robert! You devil! Do not tease so!’ she chided him. ‘Why have you kept such a secret from me? I thought myself your dearest friend and have only just now been informed of your betrothal!’

Sandford shot a glance at his mother and quickly appraised the situation.

‘I see I have been forestalled,’ he said, with a rueful smile. ‘I promise I intended to bring Miss Cordell to Westpark as soon as I was able. We were obliged to quit London in such haste that we had no time to pack our belongings—I believe Madame Armande is attending to some of your more pressing needs?’ He cast what he felt to be a fond smile in Harriet’s direction.

‘I hope the morning’s activities have not tired you out, dearest?’ He continued, determined to play his part to perfection. ‘I came to see if you would care to take a walk in the grounds—but perhaps you would prefer to stay and talk to Mrs Hurst? I’m sure she is dying to hear our story!’

Judith shook her head and laughed.

‘Very true, my dear Robert—but I shall not play the gooseberry! And besides, I do want to know how Lord William does. You two lovebirds may run along now if you promise that you will tell me all later?’

Sandford bowed and, taking Harriet’s hand on his arm, he led her out through the rear doors on to the terrace. He did not speak until they had descended the steps leading to the gardens.

‘I should have foreseen that possibility,’ he commented thoughtfully as soon as they were out of earshot. ‘I trust that you were not too discomposed?’

‘We were caught off our guard,’ admitted Harriet, relieved to be out in the fresh air at last. ‘Lady Caroline showed great presence of mind. However, it now appears that we have to concoct some sort of history for our sudden—romance.’

Her voice stumbled on the word and he looked down at her flushed cheeks in concern.

‘It will not be for long,’ he said soothingly. ‘We must stick to the truth as far as possible—we could easily have known one another for years. I shall simply say that we met again in London and that I was overcome …’

He stopped, as Harriet came to an abrupt halt beside him.

‘Oh, I would prefer that you do not say such a thing, my lord,’ she exclaimed, hot with embarrassment. ‘I must inform you that I feel sufficiently uncomfortable about this whole charade without having to fabricate even more deception.’

‘Judith is no fool,’ he informed her bluntly. ‘She will expect ‘'love” to be in it somewhere—and how else would you explain such a hasty betrothal?’

Harriet’s chin came up and she flashed angry eyes at him.

‘I take leave to remind you that it was not my idea, nor was I in favour of it!’ she felt constrained to point out. ‘Now it appears that we are to be embroiled in yet more deceit. I shudder to think what further complications lie in store!’

‘Oh, come now! Surely it cannot be beyond your powers to engage in a little harmless play-acting—you seemed ready enough to dash about the countryside in questionable and, unless I’m mistaken, stolen garb only yesterday!’

Tongue in cheek, he was deliberately goading her and knew he had achieved a hit with this sally when he saw her fists clench.

‘I did not steal them!’ she replied hotly. ‘I left a guinea—far more than they were worth!’ Then she realised that he was set upon teasing her, which merely increased her anger.

‘That, as you perfectly well know, was quite a different matter,’ she threw at him, ‘and, though I tremble to mention it, perhaps it will be your own lack of ability that will bring about the downfall of this ill-conceived plan—especially if you persist in referring to other young ladies as ‘'quite the prettiest''—even if they are,’ she finished lamely, scowling as Sandford laughed outright.

‘Clumsy of me,’ he admitted cheerfully. ‘On that I stand corrected! I promise to remember that you have that honour now and, if you will only play your part with a little more conviction, I’m sure we will hold out.’

He lifted her hand and firmly placed it once more on his arm.

‘Shall we say twice around the fountain, my dear? And please endeavour to keep step. I do not wish to seem to be dragging you around the gardens!’

‘Then stop striding along as though you were marching to war,’ she protested. ‘I cannot walk at such a pace and I refuse to run alongside you. Is everything always done to your bidding?’ She swiftly withdrew her hand, as he halted once more.

‘You really are the most infuriating young lady I have ever come across,’ he said, no longer hiding his irritation. ‘And this is fast becoming a bore! Surely you must prefer to be here at Beldale rather than under some hedgerow, or worse. After all your years in the Peninsula, I need not point out what might have happened to you had someone other than myself found you on that roadside … !’

‘Yes, well—I do know that and I have repeatedly told you that I am very grateful to you, but that does not give you the right to be always ordering me about. Do you never allow anyone but yourself to have an opinion or a point of view? I am not one of your infantrymen, you know!’

Sandford, highly exasperated, glared down at her.

‘I am well aware of that fact,’ he said drily. ‘In the field one seldom has time for philosophical debate when decisions have to be made. I have learnt to deal with tricky situations in a straightforward manner, without unnecessary roundaboutation or fuss. I fail to see why you should find that so unacceptable.’

‘You may make your own decisions as much as you like,’ countered Harriet, her eyes kindling, ‘but please do not be forever making mine!’

With which remark she turned on her heel and walked quickly back to the house, leaving Sandford wondering, in baffled uncertainty, if this scheme of his mother’s was going to be such a good idea, after all.

Sighing, he watched Harriet climb the terrace steps and disappear from his view. He hoped that Lady Caroline and Judith had, by now, left the dining-room, as the girl’s singular return would certainly cause a raised eyebrow if witnessed. He hesitated, and then resignedly followed after her.

The room was, in fact, empty when Harriet entered and she stood undecided for a moment, having had time to give some thought to her hasty retreat, and was just about to retrace her steps when Sandford reappeared.

‘If I have offended you,’ he said, stiffly correct, ‘I must apologise. It was certainly not my intention to override your wishes …’

‘No, sir, if you please,’ Harriet intervened in breathless haste. ‘The fault is mine. I—often have—difficulty in curbing my—impetuosity. Father always warned it would lead me to disaster and he was right. It so often does. I beg your pardon, my lord. I shall try to behave as you suggest.’

She looked so much like a penitent child as she stood before him with her eyes cast down that Sandford felt a sudden urge to hold her in his arms. With an effort he turned away and walked to the doorway.

‘Then let us consider the subject closed,’ he shot over his shoulder as he went out. It appears that the little termagant has learnt her lesson, he thought, with a slightly bemused frown, ‘Perhaps we should go and join the ladies?’

Arrogant beast, thought Harriet, immediately regretting her offer of apology but, since no other course of action was open to her, she gritted her teeth and, resolving to try to be on her best behaviour, she reluctantly followed him from the room.

In spite of this somewhat inauspicious start, it did not take Harriet long to find that she really enjoyed Judith Hurst’s company, although the young widow was several years older than herself. She admired Judith for the stalwart way in which she had coped at the loss of her beloved husband, remembering sadly that her own mother had not done as well in her grief. Judith seemed truly happy at the news of Sandford’s impending marriage and, eager to be involved in introducing Harriet to the local society, at once offered to hold a small party at Westpark House in honour of the engagement. Since Lady Caroline felt that the earl’s frail condition must restrict any immediate gathering at Beldale, she readily agreed and, having already taken Harriet’s wardrobe requirements into her stride, she was satisfied that her protégée would bring nothing but credit to the family.

Sandford himself had picked out a frisky mare for his betrothed, for he was quite sure that she would be a good horsewoman after her years in Spain, and the first time he tossed her up into the saddle he was gratified to see how capably her hands controlled the prancing bay.

Harriet’s eyes had lit up with joy at the sight of the mare, for she was agog to explore the grounds, having waited impatiently for her riding habit to be delivered. Madame Armande had excelled herself in the swift execution of the brandy-coloured outfit, trimmed with military frogging of gold lace down the front of the jacket, along with a pert little shako complete with its own cockade of bronze feathers. Sandford was more than satisfied with Harriet’s appearance as they set out on their first visit to Westpark.

They rode through a wooded spinney along the bridleway that joined the two properties and the viscount pointed out various landmarks, which would help her should Harriet choose to visit Judith on her own. When they reached the area where his father had been thrown from his horse, Sandford related the groom’s description of the accident.

‘I still cannot see why he should have fallen at this spot,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘He is fairly lucid now and continues to maintain that something caused his horse to go down, but I have scoured the area and can find nothing untoward. He does not recollect seeing an animal on the path or hearing anyone in the vicinity, but swears that Cobalt went down all of a sudden …’

‘Perhaps he got a flint in his foot?’ suggested Harriet. ‘I have seen horses go down in that way. And you say that Cobalt was a veteran—did he suffer from a rheumatic condition which might have caused his legs to fold?’

Sandford considered. ‘Smithers didn’t mention it, but it is possible.’ He studied her curiously. ‘You seem to know a great deal about horses,’ he said.

Harriet gave a wry smile. ‘For a girl, you mean. You are forgetting that I practically grew up in the cavalry,’ she replied. ‘Being an infantryman, you had only your own string with which to concern yourself, but we had to be horse doctors as well as soldiers, you know.’

She pulled ahead of him as the path narrowed and he was obliged, for the moment, to ride behind her in silence which, as well as preventing him from uttering an indignant rebuttal, gave him ample opportunity both to admire her straight back and elegant posture and to think better of his intended remark.

The bridleway from Beldale opened out through a wide-barred gate into a clearing and Sandford indicated the Westpark gate on the other side of the meadow.

‘This is the short cut that the two families use,’ he said. ‘Carriages have to go round by the lane, of course, which adds five miles to the trip.’

Harriet gauged the distance across the field. ‘Race you,’ she offered, and was off like an arrow before he had time to reply.

‘Watch out for rabbit holes!’ he shouted and was after her in a trice, but she had the advantage and reached the far side ahead of him. He reined in beside her, his face wreathed in smiles. Harriet’s face was bright with the exhilaration of the gallop and her green eyes were sparkling with delight as she looked at him.

‘She’s a beauty! Thank you so much for letting me use her,’ she said, as she patted the mare’s neck fondly. ‘Clipper! What a fitting name for her.’

‘I’m glad you approve. You ride very well—and don’t say ‘'for a girl'', for I’m sure I don’t mean to minimise your ability. Only, next time, give me fair warning before you challenge me!’

‘Oh, I’d hardly take on that boy of yours in fair play,’ she laughed. ‘I believe in the element of surprise, your lordship. I’m amazed you never encountered the strategy in your battles!’

‘Oh, I encountered it, all right, Miss Cleverboots,’ he laughed, leaning down to close the gate behind them. ‘Now I shall be on my guard—just make sure that you are, also!’

They rode on, side by side, exchanging similar persiflage until they eventually turned into the stableyard at Westpark House, where their horses were handed to the grooms and they entered the house by the rear doors.

‘We got into the habit of doing this,’ said Sandford, as he ushered Harriet through the entrance. ‘Lady Butler doesn’t approve, of course, but Phil and I always found it more convenient …’ He paused, then continued, ‘… this passage leads into the main hall. The staff will already have been notified of our arrival.’

He pushed open a green baize door and nodded to the waiting footman.

‘Good morning, Finchley. Mrs Hurst is expecting us. Is she in the small parlour?’

The elderly manservant nodded disapprovingly. ‘Yes, my lord,’ he intoned gravely, as he led the way and showed them into a cheerful sitting-room where Judith was to be found playing spillikins with her two children while her mother was half-heartedly attending to the tapestry on her fulsome lap.

At the footman’s announcement, Judith rose gracefully and came towards them, hands outstretched.

‘Oh, you came! I’m so pleased. Look, Mother. Robert has brought Miss Cordell to visit us—and what a stunning outfit, I do declare. Do sit down, won’t you? Shall I have Finchley bring in some tea—or would you prefer coffee?’

Sandford was already engaged in the game with his niece and nephew and declined refreshment. Harriet, having accepted a glass of lemonade, seated herself opposite the elderly Lady Butler and asked her politely how she did.

‘I must not complain,’ said her ladyship, pulling her copious shawls about her ample shoulders more snugly, although the day was warm and humid. ‘One is beset by so many aches and pains. But I have learned to bear my discomforts with fortitude.’

She leaned forward, peering closely at Harriet. ‘You are very young, to be sure. Just out of the schoolroom, I suppose. Do your parents allow you to travel about the countryside without a chaperon? In my day it would have been unheard of.’

Harriet laughed. ‘I am not as young as I look, ma’am,’ she said, ‘and I disremember ever having been in a schoolroom. And as for a chaperon, you must agree that Sandford will serve?’

The old lady sniffed. ‘I’m told you met Robert while he was off fighting—a camp-follower, or some such, I hear.’

Sandford stiffened and raised his startled eyes to meet Harriet’s. She, however, smiled and nodded her head at Lady Butler.

‘We certainly had to follow the camp, ma’am, but we were in excellent company. Several of their lordships’ wives and daughters were with us, you know, and it was not fun and frolics quite all of the time!’

The viscount’s eyes gleamed with amusement, then became more serious as he intervened.

‘Hardly any of the time, actually,’ he said, getting up from the floor, ‘and as for camp-followers, ma’am, we would have been hard pressed, at times, to manage without their assistance. I must inform you, ma’am, that Miss Cordell’s father was a courageous comrade of mine and her mother was well respected for her voluntary tending of the wounded.’