‘Is your girl - what is her name?’
‘Bella.’
‘Well, is she like Selina? Would she flaunt her lovers?’
‘How can I tell? How can anyone know such things in advance?’
‘Some things have to be taken on trust. Do you love her?’ he asked bluntly.
‘I thought I did. Dan, I can’t get her out of my mind! But it’d hopeless. I made a mull of it, and in any event, I won’t be castigated as a fortune-hunter! Robert had enough of that. It soured him.’
‘Selina’s activities did that, Richard!’
‘Perhaps. I’m sorry, I’ve been so angry all the way from Bath, I had to tell someone, and who but my best friend? Now let’s talk of other things. What’s this mission to Paris?’
* * * *
A few days later Jane and Bella were bowling out of Bath in a hired post chaise. They spent the night at The King’s Head in Thatcham, near Newbury, Jane bluntly refusing to attempt the entire journey in one day.
‘I’ve no wish to encounter footpads on Hounslow Heath, or arrive long after dark in Mount Street,’ she insisted. ‘One more day will make no difference.’
Bella, though thankful to see the last of Bath, and eager to reach London, was impatient, but had to agree, and it was mid-afternoon when the chaise came to a halt outside Lady Fulwood’s tall narrow house in Mount Street.
To Jane’s relief Lady Fulwood was at home, and received them with obvious enthusiasm. They were shown up into the drawing room while her footman was ordered to take their trunks straight to the guest rooms.
Lady Fulwood was not so old as Bella had assumed from Jane’s description. She was a thin, well-preserved lady in her mid-fifties, her neck somewhat scrawny, and her bony face lined, but from laughter rather than peevishness.
‘My dear Jane, how lovely to see you! And your cousin too. She’ll be company for you until Philip arrives. I knew your father long ago, Bella, but I never met your mother.’
On the journey Bella had determined to have no more deception. She was also concerned not to cause her hostess any difficulties should details of her Bath masquerade reach her from someone else, as was inevitable. Immediately they had washed away the dust of the journey and returned to the drawing room she confessed.
Rather guiltily she told Lady Fulwood all about her visit to Harrogate, her detestation of the money-grubbing fortune hunters she’d encountered there, and her subsequent incognito visit to Bath. Lady Fulwood startled her by the open enjoyment she evinced at the tale.
‘Lord, how I’d have enjoyed doing that!’ she exclaimed. ‘But you gave it up. Why?’
Bella had omitted all mention of Lord Dorney, but now she explained how Mr Salway’s reappearance had made it impossible to continue, and reconciled her to living as her wealthy self in London.
‘You need not be concerned overmuch,’ Lady Fulwood opined. ‘I know every gazetted fortune hunter in the country, and can warn you long before you begin to feel a tendre for any of them.’
Bella refrained from announcing her intention of never marrying, suspecting it would lead to unproductive argument, and instead listened eagerly to the plans Lady Fulwood was rapidly evolving for introducing her visitors to the ton.
‘What if anyone from Bath comes and recognizes us?’ Jane asked.
‘We laugh, admit it was a frolic, and tell them the reason,’ Lady Fulwood replied robustly. ‘It won’t do any harm, in fact it might serve to warn the more obvious toadies away. Now, what good fortune I have no other guests here at the moment. My godson may arrive any day. His letter was vague, but his own house in Town is let for the Season and he indicated he might first spend a few days with a friend.’
‘Will I be a nuisance, when your other guests arrive?’ Bella asked diffidently.
‘Of course not, child, I love having lots of people around me. Now we must concentrate on tonight. I’ve invitations to a ball, a rout, a musical evening and a soiree. Which would you prefer to attend first? I’d suggest the musicale, since we can slip away at the interval, there’ll be more people there than at the soiree, which is rather select. Then we can go on to the rout and the ball if you’re not too tired after your journey.’
‘All of them?’ Bella asked, astonished.
‘Oh, yes, or we’d never be able to do much. Only the real friends of a hostess stay for the entire evening if there are other invitations.’
‘But we have no invitations,’ Jane objected faintly.
‘No matter, everyone knows me, and would hardly refuse entry to my guests. For a start neither musicale nor the soiree will be well attended and they’ll be grateful for more people. Then the rout will be such a squeeze they won’t even notice you’re there. And the ball is to launch a very lovely and moderately wealthy young lady, and though you’re well enough, child, and will be better when my dressmaker has attended to it, you won’t be considered a threat to her. I’ll no doubt be able to introduce you to one of the Patronesses of Almack’s at the ball, and get vouchers for you both.’
* * * *
Swept along by her enthusiasm they forgot the tedium of the journey, and after an early dinner set out for the round of entertainments.
Bella, at her hostess’s insistence, submitted to the ministrations of Fanny, Lady Fulwood’s elderly dresser. When she contemplated the finished result she had to confess that the new style of arranging her hair, and the faintest touch of rouge in her cheeks, somehow made an indefinable and attractive difference to her looks. Mary was competent at looking after her clothes, but she had less skill in dressing her hair. Bella determined that Fanny must teach her.
She wore a gown she’d had no opportunity of wearing in Bath. Lady Fulwood had inspected all her gowns and decreed she must make an initial impact. ‘This is the one.’
It was too elaborate for ordinary balls and had been intended for a gala occasion. The underskirt was of her favourite deep shade of rose, topped with cleverly draped, shimmering gold gauze. The neckline was lower than she normally permitted herself to wear, and the enticing swell of her plump bosom was only partially concealed by swathes of the gauze. The skirt was edged with gold braid, and with it she wore the most fragile gold gloves, and carried a fan of delicate painted chicken skin.
‘What jewels have you, child?’ Lady Fulwood demanded when she came to inspect Bella.
‘My uncle’s jewels from India, but they are rather ornate. Otherwise I have only my mother’s pearls,’ Bella confessed.
‘Eminently suitable for a young girl but hopeless with that dress. Will you wear diamonds? It isn’t usual for a girl in her first season, but it’s not your first season, and you’re older than most of the chits and not the normal simpering miss.’
‘I’d love to wear diamonds!’ Bella declared, her eyes gleaming.
‘Good, for I have just the thing. Fanny, fetch the old jewel case, the one I rarely use.’
When Fanny came back Lady Fulwood unlocked the wooden box and took out a large packet. She carefully unwrapped the silk outer covering and then layers and layers of tissue to reveal the most exquisite filigree gold necklace, with small, intricate and delicate clusters of diamonds representing flowers, some of them standing proud supported on almost invisible stems of gold.
‘Oh, it’s beautiful, but I daren’t wear it!’ Bella exclaimed, putting out a finger to touch the central large cluster gently.
‘It belonged to my mother, and I’ve no use for such an ornament. It would look silly on my neck! Jane has plenty of her own, so I want you to borrow it, my dear. And don’t worry your head about how fragile it looks, it isn’t. Here, let me fasten it.’
* * * *
So Bella wore the necklace, and knew it gave her an added glow of confidence. Every so often she would surreptitiously caress the central cluster of diamonds, as if it were a talisman. She could just glance down and see the stones gleaming in the lights of many candles, reflecting the gold and rose of her own gown and the many other colours of the gowns about her.
The musicale was as tedious as Lady Fulwood had predicted, and they were glad to leave early. The rout was far better attended, but the hostess had abandoned the receiving line before they arrived, and it was such a crush they never found her to announce their arrival or make their apologies on departure.
‘She’ll only be sure who was there when people send notes of thanks,’ Lady Fulwood explained to her rather bemused companions as the carriage took them towards Grosvenor Square. ‘It will be accounted a great success.’
A long line of carriages was queuing to deposit guests at the house where the ball was being held. Torches flamed, lighting up a large portion of the Square, and to either side of the awning groups of onlookers resisted all the attempts of two footmen to shoo them away.
Bella’s shocked gaze roved over them. They were mostly wretchedly attired children strayed from the crowded tenements eastwards, nearer the old part of the City. She had never seen such abject poverty, even in the foul conditions of some Lancashire mill villages. And it was far too late for them to be out of their beds, she said indignantly.
Lady Fulwood shook her head. ‘For many of them beds are unknown luxuries. They sleep in doorways and wherever else they can find shelter.’
The sight made her finger the necklace nervously. How could she justify wearing such finery and valuable jewels when these tiny children clearly hadn’t enough to eat? She would start another of her houses somewhere near here, where there was country air and a few children at least could grow up in healthy surroundings.
It was half an hour before Lady Fulwood and her two young companions were being welcomed by their host and hostess, a stout couple who beamed jovially on their uninvited guests.
‘You’re most welcome, my dears. Your cousin’s been a close friend for many years, and we’ve no shortage of men tonight,’ Lady Trent announced proudly. ‘Julia’s already had more offers than we can count, despite having been in London for less than a month!’ she added.
‘Where is the child?’
‘I sent her away to dance. No point in her standing here all night,’ Sir George said heartily. ‘Now you go away and find partners for yourselves, my dear young ladies. You should neither of you have difficulty in doing that.’
Lady Fulwood moved away, followed by Bella and Jane. The ballroom had been built out at the back of the house, and for this evening’s ball it had been decorated with pale green drapes, festooned with hundreds of yards of entwined branches of greenery and flowers. Huge tubs with full-grown trees and shrubs had been arranged artfully about the room to provide alcoves where the chaperones could sit and gossip, and an orchestra was playing on a dais at the far end. To one side open full length windows led onto a narrow patio garden, lit with flambeaux, and opposite various anterooms had been set out with dozens of small tables as cardrooms and for refreshments.
Lady Fulwood progressed slowly along the perimeter of the room, stopping to introduce the girls to friends, and soon they each had several names written in their programmes. The cotillion which was just ending was followed by a waltz, and Jane was whisked away by a friend from the days before she’d married Philip.
Bella stood beside Lady Fulwood feeling rebellious. Whatever her thoughts about flouting the conventions of Society, she knew she dared not waltz until she’d been given express approval by the Patronesses at Almack’s. At her first season she had never been to that exclusive club, for her aunt did not have the sort of connections Lady Fulwood clearly did. She smiled wryly to herself. If she were never admitted into the highest ranks of Society in the first place she could hardly flout it as she half intended.
If Lady Fulwood was aware of Bella’s feelings she ignored them, chatting to an elderly gentleman with a military bearing who was introduced to Bella as Major Wilkins. He knew her father, and demanded to be told in detail what Mr Trahearne had been doing in the last twenty years. Bella had little opportunity to watch the dancers as she responded, but just as the music came to an end with a gay flourish the Major moved away and Bella turned to find herself looking straight into Lord Dorney’s startled eyes.
She gulped, with a tremendous effort tore her gaze away, and with a further shock saw that he had his arm round the waist of the widow, Mrs Ford. That lady, last seen in mourning, was now dressed in a youthful blue gown, and looked scarcely more than twenty. She was smiling intimately up at him, unaware of Bella, and as Bella’s eyes turned back towards Lord Dorney he swung his partner round and guided her across the floor to disappear into one of the refreshment rooms.
Chapter 9
During the next few dances for which, because they were not waltzes, Bella could accept invitations, she was thinking furiously. Mrs Ford was undeniably beautiful, and Lord Dorney might well be attracted to her. At the time of the accident to Felicity, when she had come to their rescue, she’d exhibited a calm efficiency which he would undoubtedly prefer to her own impetuous behaviour.
Then Bella recalled Mrs Ford’s words when they’d met in Milsom Street. She had been going to stay with her sister in Mount Street. Lady Fulwood would be sure to know her. Even if Lord Dorney condemned her and Mrs Ford preferred to forget the acquaintance, she could hardly snub the guests of a neighbour.
How this could help Bella’s own plans was unclear. She herself was unsure of what she intended. Half of her wanted to throw all caution to the winds and defy Society, but she also secretly hoped that Lord Dorney might, could she but explain to him, understand her actions and forgive her. Bella decided with characteristic optimism that it could do no harm if she were to meet Mrs Ford as soon as possible. When she escaped from her partner and went looking for the widow, however, Mrs Ford had vanished. So had Lord Dorney, and Bella went home in a state of suppressed fury tinged with anxiety that kept her awake for the remainder of the night.
There was no opportunity the following morning to talk with Jane, for Lady Fulwood swept them both off to Bond Street to replenish their wardrobes. After a nuncheon of fruit and ham the dressmaker came to begin work on the several ballgowns Lady Fulwood insisted were absolutely essential.