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