A Regency Earl's Pleasure: The Earl Plays With Fire / Society's Most Scandalous Rake. Isabelle Goddard
may I speak privately with you for a moment?’ Christabel asked in a tight voice as she ushered her mother into the library.
Lady Harriet looked flustered. ‘Shouldn’t we get the hall cleared first, my dear? The house is at sixes and sevens and the staff really do not like it.’
‘In a minute, Mama. This is more important.’
Once in the library, she wasted no time. ‘Why are Sophia and Benedict here?’ she asked, fixing her mother with a minatory look.
‘They are family. It is quite natural that they should come to stay with us,’ her mother responded defensively.
‘But why now, Mama? You know that it was decided they would both remain in Cornwall for the next few months.’
‘That was certainly the initial plan, but things have changed a little.’
‘What things precisely?’
‘Sophia is eighteen and should have the opportunity to partake of at least some of the Season.’ Her mother appeared unwilling to answer her directly.
‘She was eighteen when we left Lamorna, so I ask you again—what has changed?’
‘Sir Julian has changed.’
‘What do you mean by that?’
‘I mean that he is ready to make you an offer, Christabel. You cannot deny it and if, as I hope, you will see fit to accept him, Sophia must be introduced to the ton at the earliest possible moment so that she, too, has the chance of contracting an eligible alliance.’
‘But it was agreed that she would come out officially next year.’
‘That was before we knew about Sir Julian.’
‘What do we know about Sir Julian? Sophia said that he was my fiancé. Why should she say that?’
‘He is—almost,’ her mother ventured.
‘He has not asked me to marry him.’
‘But he will. And I cannot think why he did not do so this morning. It was clearly what he intended.’
Christabel ignored this and pursued her own enquiry relentlessly.
‘Have you told Sophia that I am engaged?’
‘I may have mentioned in letters to your father that it was possible you were on the point of accepting a proposal.’
‘And Papa has repeated this to Sophia?’
‘He may have mentioned it.’
‘May have? He obviously let it slip and, knowing Sophia, she will have plagued him to death until he agreed that she could come to London. Isn’t that so?’
Her mother hung her head guiltily.
‘I thought so. And I am to be coerced into agreeing to this marriage so that my sister can have her way.’
‘No one is talking of coercion, Bel. You know that you must be married, if not to Sir Julian, then to someone else. We’ve had this conversation a hundred times before. And it’s only fair to Sophia that she be allowed her place in the sun.’
‘And is Benedict also to be allowed his place in the sun?’
‘Don’t be foolish. Benedict is still a stripling and only just down from Oxford. Your father thought it wise to let him gain some town bronze before he settles to learning the management of the estate.’
‘What you mean is that he also plagued Papa until he was allowed to come.’
‘He will be here only a month, my dear, and someone had to escort Sophia. I cannot understand why you are so cross.’
Christabel took a deep breath and said with deliberation, ‘I am cross because I feel my hand is being forced. I understood that we would be here on our own for this Season and expected to have time and peace to consider my future. Now I have virtually the whole of my family breathing down my neck and pushing me into a marriage I don’t want.’
‘You don’t want it!’
Her mother looked scandalised and Christabel felt stunned. She hadn’t meant to acknowledge such troublesome feelings so starkly, even to herself, let alone express them aloud. She tried to recover her composure as best she could.
‘I understand my position, Mama, and I will do what is expected of me. But don’t demand that I am glad.’
And with that she turned on her heel and threaded her way swiftly through the still-cluttered hall and up the stairs to her room without another word. Brother and sister, still standing amidst the clutter of baggage, looked after her in surprise.
Once in her room, Christabel flung herself down on the satin counterpane and closed her eyes. The morning had been full of shocks and she was not coping well with them. She needed to pull herself together. Sophia was an unfriendly presence that she could have done without, but nothing more. As for Benedict, he would be filling Mount Street with noise and disturbance. Maybe that would be beneficial; it would help to distract her from the reality of her life. Which was what, exactly? Marriage to a man she did not love and hatred from the man she had once loved. The near-fatal accident, her siblings’ unwelcome arrival, her mother’s pretence, could all be forgotten. It was Richard’s undisguised hostility that stayed with her.
Early the next morning she woke to a household already on the move. She’d slept badly and wanted nothing more than to stay curled in bed. But very shortly Sophia bounced into her room, more than happy to explain the bustle.
‘Mama has said that I am to go shopping and you are to accompany me,’ she announced peremptorily.
Christabel blinked sleepily and reached for her cup of chocolate. ‘Don’t you already have enough clothes?’
‘No, I don’t. I shall need a completely new wardrobe to make a splash in London. You have a rail of exquisite dresses, so don’t be selfish, Bel!’ Her sister was at her most indignant.
She flounced out of the room only to be replaced by a second morning visitor.
‘Bel, my darling, I know you’re not happy about accompanying Sophia, but I would count it a great favour.’
‘I will go, of course, Mama, but I won’t be able to stop her buying the most dreadful clothes. She will listen to your advice far more readily than to mine.’
‘My dear, Sophia listens to no one, as you well know. And you have such elegant taste—I’m hoping some of it will rub off on her.’
Christabel did not share that hope, but felt it only right she attempt to help. Her mother was looking unusually tired and harassed by the sudden eruption of two youthful and demanding offspring into her hitherto peaceful household.
Within the hour they were in the carriage and on their way to Lady Harriet’s favourite modiste. The morning that followed was one Christabel never wished to repeat. Again and again she sought to dissuade the younger girl from unwise purchases: heliotrope was not on the whole an immensely flattering colour; a bonnet sporting six ostrich plumes and a cluster of brightly coloured gemstones might be thought a trifle vulgar; a dress of gauze worn over a transparent petticoat was unlikely to ingratiate her with the most illustrious members of the ton. But she was helpless against the onslaught of Sophia in full cry and could only watch in despair as the carriage gradually filled with an array of packages containing the most unsuitable attire.
The clothes had been costly and eaten up most of the very generous allowance bestowed by Lord Tallis and still they had not purchased gloves, slippers, reticules—all the myriad accessories necessary for a young lady about to embark on a social whirl. Christabel’s tentative suggestion that they go to the Pantheon Bazaar where she’d heard there were bargains to be had was received with surprising enthusiasm and they drove immediately to Grafton House. Very soon they found themselves immersed in stalls displaying an abundance of coloured muslins,