The Chaperon's Seduction Read online

  The smile in his eyes deepened, drawing her in and rousing the now familiar excitement within her.

  ‘No,’ he said softly. ‘I have no interest in Ellen.’

  For one heart-stopping moment Phyllida thought she might faint. It was as if, suddenly, there was nothing solid beneath her feet. She felt giddy, lightheaded as she gazed up into those blue eyes and read her fate.

  * * *

  ‘Phyllida, my dear, we should get on. We need to get back for Ellen’s Italian lesson.’

  Olivia’s hand was on her arm, the ground was firm again and she tore her eyes away from Richard’s smiling face, trying to muster her thoughts into some sensible, coherent order.

  ‘Yes, of course.’ Her vague smile encompassed them all, she did not think she was capable of saying anything more. She put her hand out to Ellen who was looking at her with an arrested look on her face. ‘My dear?’

  At her gentle prompting Ellen started and with a murmured apology she hurried to join her stepmama and Lady Olivia as they made their way out of the Pump Room.

  Phyllida was lost in her own thoughts as they made their way back to Charles Street, but Olivia and Ellen were happily talking and her silence went unnoticed. Her head was full of Richard Arrandale, the few words he had spoken, the look in his eyes that had sent her spirits into such disorder. Had she misunderstood him? How could she believe that he might truly be interested in her? It was too incredible, too much of a fairytale.

  ‘And what do you think of Mr Arrandale?’

  Ellen’s enquiry brought Phyllida crashing back to reality and it was with inordinate relief that she realised the question was posed to her sister.

  ‘A wastrel.’ Olivia did not mince her words. ‘He is a gamester and a shocking flirt.’

  ‘Well, I like him,’ replied Ellen, equally blunt.

  ‘That is neither here nor there,’ retorted Olivia. ‘It is common knowledge that he has squandered his own fortune and may well have his eye on yours. Your stepmama would do well to keep you away from such characters.’

  ‘But I will have to meet such characters as you call them when I come out next year, so it is as well that I am prepared, do you not think?’

  There was no arguing with Ellen’s simple logic and Phyllida, seeing her sister for once at a loss for words, burst out laughing.

  * * *

  Phyllida was genuinely sorry when Olivia’s short stay in Charles Street drew to a close. It was very pleasant to have her company when they went shopping or enjoyed a walk in Sydney Gardens and she also shared in the task of chaperoning Ellen about Bath. Even on the final morning Olivia insisted upon escorting Ellen to her dancing class.

  ‘Let me do this one last thing for you, Phyllida. It will give me an opportunity to say goodbye to Ellen. I believe Matlock is to escort her to Laura Place with Julia Wakefield afterwards, so we can enjoy a little time together before I set off for London.’

  ‘But surely you would prefer to spend the morning resting,’ Phyllida protested. ‘Or perhaps you might even wish to set off a little earlier.’

  ‘Why should I need to rest when I will spend the better part of the day sitting in a chaise? And as for leaving earlier, I have bespoke a room at the Castle in Marlborough and have no wish to arrive there much before dinnertime, so my morning is free.’

  With that she collected Ellen and went out, leaving Phyllida to spend a couple of hours in the morning room, catching up on overdue correspondence.

  Phyllida had just finished the last of her letters and was placing it on a side table when her sister returned.

  ‘Do take a seat, Olivia. I asked Hirst to bring in refreshments just as soon as you returned—’ She stopped when she saw the look upon her sister’s face. ‘My dear, whatever is the matter?’

  ‘I think it is you who had better sit down,’ said Olivia, grimly. ‘I have just heard the most appalling news.’

  The butler’s entrance brought a temporary halt to their conversation. Phyllida went to sit in a chair next to her sister and they waited impatiently until Hirst had served them both with a glass of wine and placed a plate of little cakes on the table before them. As soon as he had withdrawn Phyllida put down her glass and turned to her sister.

  ‘Pray, now, tell me what has upset you so.’

  Olivia did not reply immediately. She took a sip of her wine, but one foot was tapping impatiently, a sure sign that she was seriously troubled.

  ‘I have heard the most disturbing report, Sister. After I left Ellen at her dance class I thought I might purchase some marzipan as a little gift for Hapton—he has such a sweet tooth—and thus I went to the confectioners in Milsom Street. There I met with Lady Heston—not a particular friend of yours, I know. She is considered a little fast, I believe, but we were at school together, and it is never wise to cut a connection. As Hapton always says, one never knows when someone may prove useful.’

  ‘Yes, yes, but what has this to say to anything?’ asked Phyllida, bemused.

  Olivia’s countenance grew darker.

  ‘Lady Heston has a...a gentleman friend. I shall put it no stronger than that, although I have my suspicions.’

  ‘Olivia, will you please get to the point?’

  ‘The point is, dear Sister, that there is a wager between certain gentlemen in Bath, as to which one of them will be the first to seduce Ellen! And there is a prize of ten thousand pounds for the winner.’

  Chapter Nine

  ‘Ten thousand!’

  ‘You may well stare,’ said Olivia. ‘I was truly shocked when I heard of it. Not that I should have been surprised, when I saw the likes of Richard Arrandale and Sir Charles Urmston in Bath.’

  ‘I do not believe Mr Arrandale is a part of it.’

  ‘Then you are a fool. His family is renowned for their outrageous behaviour.’

  Phyllida wrapped her arms across her chest. She suddenly felt very cold. Had he lied to her? She could not believe it. Surely the look she had seen in his eyes had been genuine. But she could not think of that now. She must fix her mind upon the bigger problem.

  She said, ‘It certainly explains why so many gentlemen have been attentive to Ellen.’

  ‘Like bees around a honeypot.’ Olivia nodded. ‘I think you would be wise to remove Ellen from Bath immediately.’

  ‘Do you think I should tell her?’

  ‘By no means. I do not believe in telling children more than necessary.’

  Phyllida was tempted to reply that Ellen was not a child, but Olivia’s experience of the world was so much greater than her own. Surely she must know best.

  ‘Seduction implies that Ellen would be willing, does it not?’ she said thoughtfully. ‘My stepdaughter is spirited, but I do not believe she has any romantic inclinations. Indeed, she has told me as much.’

  ‘But with such a sum at stake, the inducement for any man to attempt to win her is very high, and by fair means or foul,’ said Olivia. ‘What are you going to do?’

  Phyllida considered.

  ‘I think we should remain in Bath,’ she said slowly. ‘At least here we are well known, and Ellen is accustomed to being accompanied everywhere. If we removed to Tatham Park it would be much more difficult to keep an eye on her, for she is so used to going out alone there and it would irk her beyond bearing to be shadowed. And if I insisted upon it, she might even begin to slip off on her own.’

  ‘You have allowed that girl far too much freedom, Phyllida. We would never have disobeyed our parents in such a manner.’

  ‘I certainly would not have done so, but I recall several occasions when you went off alone to meet a beau.’

  ‘Yes, well never mind that now,’ said Olivia, hastily. ‘Besides, there was no financial incentive for any man to seduce me.’

  Silence fell. At length Phyllid
a turned anxious eyes upon her sister.

  ‘It seems too fantastical. Are you sure it is true?’

  Olivia sighed. ‘Lady Heston was always prone to exaggeration when she was at school,’ she admitted. ‘That may not have changed, but I do not think she would have concocted the whole story for my benefit.’

  ‘If there is the slightest chance that such a wager exists then I must be on my guard.’

  ‘But you will not remove from Bath?’

  ‘No, I think not, although I shall hire another manservant to go about with us.’

  Lady Hune had only recently suggested it. Did she, too, suspect Ellen needed extra protection, possibly from her own great-nephew? Phyllida shook her head. ‘I have seen no sign that Ellen favours any one of her suitors above the others, so I do not fear an elopement. But there is no saying that if I were to take Ellen away some of these, these persons might follow us with a view to staging an abduction. That would be very much more difficult in Bath, where we are surrounded by friends.’

  ‘That is very true.’ Olivia struck her hands together and uttered a little cry of frustration. ‘Oh, I am tempted to write to Hapton and tell him I must stay here with you. I really do not see how you will cope with this on your own.’

  Phyllida put up her chin. ‘I will cope. I am not the shy little girl you once knew, Olivia, and where Ellen is concerned I can be a positive lioness, I assure you.’

  * * *

  Despite her brave words Phyllida could not rest and once Olivia had departed she fetched her shawl and told Matty she would meet Ellen from her dancing lesson and accompany her and Miss Wakefield to Laura Place. The walk gave her time to consider what Olivia had told her and she decided to take Lady Wakefield into her confidence.

  ‘Are you sure it can be true?’ asked that lady, when Phyllida had explained everything. ‘Is it from a reliable source?’

  ‘My sister had it from Lady Heston, ma’am.’

  ‘Well, I do not like to doubt the lady’s veracity but I find it hard to believe such a thing would happen in Bath.’

  ‘Nevertheless I cannot ignore it,’ said Phyllida.

  ‘No, of course not.’ Lady Wakefield thought for a moment, a tiny crease furrowing her brow. ‘It would explain the inordinate amount of interest that some creatures are taking in your stepdaughter. Mr Tesford, for example. And George Cromby. One cannot cut their acquaintance, of course, without solid proof, but I have never liked either man very much.’

  ‘And then there is Sir Charles Urmston, and Mr Arrandale.’

  Phyllida held her breath while Lady Wakefield considered the two names, only letting it go when the lady shook her head.

  ‘I cannot think they would be party to such an outrage, but neither of them has a spotless reputation and how do we know what any gentleman is up to at these clubs and gambling hells? Even Wakefield has been known to visit them.’ She caught herself up and added hastily, ‘Not that I mean he would ever be involved in anything as reprehensible as this, I assure you! Hmm. Have you mentioned it to Ellen? No? Well, I think you are wise. It could damage her confidence.’

  That made Phyllida smile, despite her concerns.

  ‘I have no fears for Ellen’s confidence, ma’am. It is more likely to make her angry, and to wish to punish those concerned.’

  ‘Nevertheless it would do Ellen’s reputation no good at all if it got out. I think we would be advised to keep this between ourselves, if we can. You may be sure that I shall take good care of Ellen whenever she is with Julia, and will send my own maid with her in the carriage when I send her home to you this evening.’

  Thus reassured, Phyllida left Ellen in Lady Wakefield’s care and went back to Charles Street via the registry office, where she set about finding another footman to add to her household.

  * * *

  The next evening was the Denhams’ ball. Phyllida was tempted not to go, but what good would that do? If she was to prevent Ellen from attending parties in Bath she might as well remove from the city. A number of nosegays were delivered during the morning, from the tasteful to the absurd and Phyllida found Ellen in the morning room with them all spread out on the table. Normally she would have been amused by her stepdaughter’s popularity, but Olivia’s revelation prevented her feeling anything but anxiety.

  ‘Goodness,’ she said, forcing herself to speak lightly. ‘Are you deciding which gentleman to favour?’

  ‘Well, some of them are far too big to pin to my gown,’ replied Ellen, surveying the array with a slight frown. ‘And I have no wish to raise false hopes.’

  ‘No, indeed,’ replied Phyllida solemnly.

  ‘There is a very pretty arrangement from Sir Charles Urmston and—oh, this is not for me at all.’ Ellen picked up a small spray of white rosebuds. ‘This one is for you, Philly. It is from Mr Arrandale.’

  ‘Indeed?’ She felt herself colouring under the speculation in Ellen’s eyes. ‘How, how ridiculous.’

  But how gloriously flattering. And heartening. Surely Richard would not be showing her quite such attention if his target was Ellen. Dare she believe what her heart was telling her?

  ‘I do not think it is ridiculous at all, Philly. Why should he not send you flowers?’

  ‘Because I am far too old for such things. I cannot wear them, of course, but they are so pretty I shall put them in a vase.’

  Taking the nosegay from Ellen she left the room, glad of the excuse to get away from Ellen’s bright, enquiring gaze. No man had ever given her flowers before, not even her husband. When she had mentioned it, on the eve of their wedding, Sir Evelyn had laughed and said that once they were at Tatham she could have as many flowers as she desired, all she had to do was order the gardener to send them indoors. Suddenly, she was quite looking forward to the evening. Phyllida had planned to wear her lilac gown with the white overdress. It would mark her out as Ellen’s chaperon and preclude her from dancing, but at the last moment she decided instead to put on the peach silk. She had worn it before, but unlike the lilac it had no demi-train, and she would therefore be free to dance.

  If anyone should ask her.

  * * *

  The Denhams owned a large property on the outskirts of Bath, but this did not prevent the city’s residents from making the journey, for Lady Denham’s parties were renowned. Phyllida had offered to take up the Desboroughs, since they kept no carriage in Bath and by the time they arrived at Denham House the dancing was already in progress. A large ballroom had been built at the back of the house with glass doors leading directly on to the gardens, which Ellen had heard would be decorated for the occasion with hundreds of coloured lamps.

  Ellen and Penelope went off to find Julia Wakefield while Phyllida took her place with the matrons. There was no doubt the three young ladies made an entrancing picture, Ellen’s golden curls showing to advantage against the darker heads of her friends and Phyllida watched the gentlemen beginning to gravitate towards the little group. Ellen was wearing none of the flowers so hopefully sent to her but she needed nothing to augment her sparkling looks as she stepped on to the dance floor with Mr Naismith. Phyllida’s eyes roved over the assembly. Sir Charles Urmston was present, as was Arnold Tesford and Henry Fullingham. George Cromby was dancing with his wife, so she hoped he would not be paying Ellen undue attention that evening. She wondered which of the gentlemen were party to the wager.

  If indeed such a wager existed. Here, amongst so many friends and acquaintances it seemed too fantastical to believe. After all, Olivia had heard it from only one source, and Lady Wakefield was inclined to dismiss it as mere conjecture. Perhaps it was all gossip. She prayed that might be the case. A sudden flurry of excitement ran through the room and she glanced towards the door, standing on tiptoe to see above the crowd. The Dowager Marchioness of Hune had arrived, escorted by Richard Arrandale. Phyllida’s heart skipped a beat when she s
aw his tall, elegant figure with the black coat stretched across his broad shoulders. His light-brown hair was brushed back and gleamed almost golden in the candlelight. She turned away, trying to ignore the fluttering in her stomach as she tried to concentrate on what Lady Wakefield was saying to her.

  * * *

  Richard could not remember the last time he had felt such anticipation when attending a party. For once he was not seeking out the most dashing matrons with whom to while away the evening. Instead his eyes were roaming the crowd, looking for the willowy figure of Lady Phyllida Tatham. He soon saw her on the far side of the room, standing with Lady Wakefield and Mrs Desborough. Sophia tapped his arm.

  ‘There is a free chair beside Colonel and Mrs Ongar, I shall sit there and you can go off and enjoy yourself.’

  He did not argue, and after delivering her to her seat and exchanging a few polite words with the colonel and his lady, Richard made his way across the room to Phyllida. She had her back to him and he had no idea if she was wearing his roses. They would not look amiss against the muted shade of her gown which was the colour of a ripe peach. Then she turned towards him, as if aware of his approach and he saw the low-cut bodice was unadorned. His smile did not falter, but his spirits plummeted like lead, only to rise again when he observed the shy smile of welcome in her eyes.

  Lady Wakefield claimed his attention and he spent precious moments talking with her until he could invite Phyllida to stand up with him, but at last he was leading her out. Her hand on his arm and the hectic flush on her cheeks stirred the blood and made his heart pound. She used no arts to attract him yet she moved him far more than any of the ripe beauties he had known. He wanted to sweep her into his arms and carry her away. Perhaps there was a summer house in the gardens where he could whisper endearments to her and steal a kiss, or even more. Deuce take it, he was acting like a moonstruck schoolboy.

  ‘You are laughing, sir. Not at me, I hope.’

  Her soft voice interrupted his thoughts. The musicians were striking up but there was still time to talk before the movement of the dance separated them.