Lady Ellingham and the Theft of the Stansfield Necklace: A Regency Romance (8 page)

      She only met two
people on the way to Green Street, neither who paid her very much attention. 
This was fortunate, as the Lady in Park Lane was Mrs Eggleston, young James’s
mother.  She would have recognised Felicity in a trice and stopped to exchange
pleasantries, no doubt curious as to why she was not accompanied by her maid.  Felicity
hurried past with her head down, made her way to Green Street and soon she
reached Thorndale’s front door.  She quickly looked around her relieved to
observe that there was no one about.  She had taken the package out of her muff
and was just raising the flap of the letterbox, when the door suddenly opened
before her.  To Felicity’s extreme dismay, Alex Sheraton loomed up before her,
simply but exquisitely clad and heading for an afternoon at Whites.  He was
dressed in a close fitting Jacket of blue superfine, cream breeches and top
boots so polished you could have seen your face in them.  Felicity gasped at
the unexpected sight of him.

      Thorndale stopped
in surprise to find a strange woman on his doorstep and gave a roguish grin.
‘Madam, may I be of assistance.’  Felicity faltered not sure what to do.  This
unexpected scenario had not featured in her scheme. Thorndale stood waiting
patiently for her to respond.  She still had the package and note in her hand
and almost reluctantly held it out to him.  She endeavoured to disguise her
voice with some success. ‘I have a delivery for the Marquis of Thorndale sir. Can
you ensure he receives it?’

      Alex keenly aware
of the unusual situation took the package. ‘I am the Marquis,’ he replied, but
this is most irregular.  I normally receive my packages by post.  Who pray are
you?’

      Felicity gave a
dignified nod and maintained her feigned voice. ‘Just someone who wishes you
well sir. I have accomplished my purpose and wish you a good day.’  She turned
to leave but Thorndale was not going to make it so easy and grabbed her arm to
detain her. He reached for her veil.  She stepped suddenly back raising her
other arm to fend him off. ‘No sir! If you are a gentleman you will leave well
alone.’

      Thorndale
maintained his grip and laughed. ‘But I am not a gentleman my dear and I want
to know who you are. Your must acknowledge that your presence here on my
doorstep is somewhat singular. You should know better than to call on a single
gentleman without an escort.  A Lady would not do such a thing and the circumstance
intrigues me.’

      Felicity baulked
at the accusation. ‘But I am not calling on you sir.  I am indeed a Lady and do
not intend to enter your home.  My sole purpose was to deliver the package.  I
was not expecting to meet you.’

      Thorndale gave a
wolfish grin and stepped even closer. ‘But now that you are here, I think you
will come in just the same and perhaps explain yourself.’

      Felicity
decided her best form of defence was attack and she wrested her arm from his
grip. ‘Sir you insult me.  You accuse me of not being a Lady but you Your
Lordship are no gentleman.  You cannot fail to acknowledge your duel standards.
I came with your interests at heart and I expect you to respect mine!’

      Thorndale observed
her curiously and glanced down at the package. He looked at the direction on
the folded note and deliberated. Despite her actions, she certainly appeared to
be a Lady, not one of the muslin company he had first suspected.  Her pelisse
was of the finest quality, obviously the work of an expensive mantua maker.  He
decided to give her the benefit of the doubt.  ‘Very well my dear. I shall
thank you for your kind office and allow you to leave but let it be a lesson to
you not to grace a single man’s doorstep unaccompanied.’

      ‘Believe me sir,
I need no lesson,’ she snapped.  ‘This is a singularly unusual circumstance and
I shall not be repeating it!’

      ‘Well make sure
you do not,’ he replied.  He watched her as she abruptly turned and walked
indignantly down the street.  Her manner, bearing and deportment declared her
very much a Lady and he was certainly curious as to who she was. There was no
clue to her identity beneath her heavy veil but he had the vague impression
that he had met her before.  ‘Ah well,’ he sighed to himself.  He was not so
much of the rake that society had proclaimed him to be, more was the pity.  Sometimes
however he wished that he were, for it would have gone far to satisfy his
curiosity.  He had to admit that life was certainly full of surprises.

       As Felicity left
Thorndale in Green Street, her heart was pounding.  She walked with dignity
down the street but as soon as she turned the corner she ran like the wind down
Park Lane and did not stop until she reached Upper Brook Street.  Lady or not,
she did not care who was watching her.  If Thorndale opened the package
straight away he would be sharp on her tail and there would be no getting away
a second time. He would want to know everything and then she would be undone.

      Alex looked at
the package in his hand and returned into the house to put it on the hall table
but his curiosity got the better of him.  His outing could wait for a moment
until he opened it.  He broke the string and removed the brown paper wrapping
to discover the familiar black velvet pouch he knew so well.  He opened it and
to his consternation, the Stansfield necklace dropped out sparkling luminously in
his hand. ‘Good Lord,’ he cursed under his breath and looked up.  He hurriedly stuffed
the necklace into his pocket and ran back out into the street.  He ran in the
direction that the unknown Lady had taken and rounded the corner but she was
not there.  His eyes scanned the perimeter of Hyde Park but all he could see
were a couple of people walking their dogs. Thorndale cursed in frustration for
she had completely disappeared.  He should have succumbed to his baser
instincts and never have let her leave.  It was the second mistake he had made
in just a week. ‘I must be going soft in the head,’ he thought to himself as he
turned and walked slowly back to the house. He remembered the note and opened it
hoping that it would enlighten him but it revealed nothing.

      He should have
been happy and he did feel a sense of relief to have the necklace back in his
possession, but he could still not be satisfied. The whole thing was a mystery
and he did not like mysteries.  His mind was racing and the more he thought
about the mysterious Lady in grey, the more he had the feeling that he had met
her before, but he could not for the life of him put a finger on it.  

     Saturday had
arrived and it was the night of Lady Lancaster’s ball. Felicity decided to wear
a gown of white crepe with a low sweetheart neckline and puffed sleeves. The
skirt fell to her feet in three gathered tiers and decorated with small cerulean
blue silk rose buds. To finish the look she wore a pair of three quarter length
white heavy laced evening gloves.  Sarah was putting the finishing touches to
her hair, which she had styled into ringlets and decorated with cerulean blue
flowers to match the gown.  ‘You look very fine Milady, if you do not mind me
saying so, just let me place this one last flower here.’ Sarah stood back to
admire her handiwork.

     Felicity gave an
absent smile, she was secretly wondering if Lord Alex Sheraton would be there. 
She had mixed feelings about his presence. His strange behaviour on the
doorstep only served to heighten her curiosity and her awareness of him.  She
found him attractive and somewhat mysterious and desired to be near him but at
the same time, she lived with the constant fear of discovery.  Would he by some
quirk of fate recognise her as the youth who had burgled him or the mysterious Lady
in the grey pelisse?  She found the possibility of detection unnerving and yet
exciting at the same time. She could always deny it of course but she did not
think herself a very good liar.

      The Lealholme
carriage arrived at Lady Lancaster’s London Mansion along with many others.
Felicity alighted along with Richard and her mother and they made their way
into the hallway amidst the thronging crowds.   Lady Lancaster was obviously
abreast with the times for instead of candles lighting up the rooms and
passages she had installed gas lighting. The innovation was relatively new.
Westminster Bridge had been lit up only a few years before in 1813 but it was
still relatively new in homes. Felicity looked about in wonder for they still
had not such a luxury in Upper Brook Street.  The ballroom itself was ablaze
with light, highlighting the many landscape paintings that adorned the wood
panelling.   Lady Lancaster was obviously an ardent admirer and collector of
art.  The ballroom was awash with the colour of autumn flowers planted in
ornamental stands and situated in the alcoves.  The flowers gave off a
wonderful fresh, sweet aroma and added to the ambience of the room.  The
atmosphere was thrilling and expectant and Felicity was excited.

      The Countess
spotted her friends Mr and Mrs Haswell with their daughter Patricia standing
beside one of the flower displays half way down the ballroom and together with
Richard and Felicity; she weaved her way through the crowd to meet them. The
music had not yet started but the musicians were limbering up to start and
people were standing in groups happily chatting, drinking and arranging their
dance partners.

      Felicity had just
granted Mr Haswell her hand for a country-dance when Alex Sheraton walked up to
the little group.  As he had not been introduced to most of the company, he
addressed Richard. ‘Good Evening Lord Lealholme.  I am pleased to see you
looking well, would you be kind enough to introduce me to your charming family
and friends.’

      Considering the
occurrences of this last week, Richard could hardly refuse and made his
introductions.   Felicity of course he already knew, but for the sake of
appearances, Richard made the introduction anyway and presented the others in
turn.  Thorndale gave the Countess his most boyish, charming smile and asked
her if she would honour him with a country-dance.  After Richards’s portrayal
of him the previous week, The Countess was slightly taken aback and looked at
her son for some indication that she should refuse. None was forthcoming, and
not wishing to appear rude she reluctantly but gracefully accepted.  As they
had just arrived, her dance card was free and the first dance of the evening
was to be a Minuet. She pencilled in the Marquis’ name and nodded her thanks.

       Thorndale after
having procured dances from Mrs Haswell and Patricia respectively turned his
attention to Felicity.  Felicity took out her dance card which of course had
only one entry, that of Mr Haswell, and she was just about to suggest her
preference when Thorndale held out his hand. ‘May I?’ he asked as he took the
card from her hand.  He ran his keen eyes swiftly through the list and marked
his name next to all three waltzes of the evening. Handing the card back he gave
her a mischievous smile and kissed the laced fingers of her gloved hand.  His
unorthodox behaviour had not gone unnoticed and Lady Ellingham gave Richard a
disapproving look.  Thorndale noticed and grinned, The Countess would have to get
used to his ways but it would not hurt to treat her with the respect she
deserved in the hope that she would warm to him.  He would have to be his most
charming and what better place to start than with a Minuet.

      Thorndale
escorted the Countess onto the dance floor. As soon as he was out of earshot,
Mrs Haswell turned to her husband. ‘Well George, I really think you should have
said something.  I do not think that I am quite happy that our little Patricia is
to dance with that rake and I could hardly refuse him.’ Her husband looked
embarrassed. ‘Well dear if Richard did not see fit to object, I do not see that
I needed to.  I really do not think that you have very much to worry about.’ 
He gave Richard a sympathetic glance. ‘I think that worry lies with Lord Lealholme
here.’

      Richard just
smiled. ‘Oh I think the Marquis is a little misunderstood. You have no need to
concern yourself over him. I can assure you my eyes are quite open and I am
well in control of the situation.’

      Mrs Haswell was
of mixed feelings and although her indignation had been somewhat feigned, she
was secretly pleased that Thorndale had honoured her daughter with a country-dance. 
Dancing with a Marquis could only add to her consequence, even this Marquis and
if her Patricia could win a Marquis for a husband on her first season that
would be a fine accomplishment indeed. Not that in this instance she could
entertain the idea, for although her daughter was by no means plain, she was
very much in the ordinary way. What chance did she have against the classic
beauty of Lady Felicity Ellingham?

      Forty minutes
into the evening, the music for the first waltz struck up and Thorndale
approached to claim his Lady for the dance.  He led Felicity onto the dance
floor, pulled her close and took her in a firm waltz hold.  She looked up at
his suave dark face and felt herself tremble in his arms.  The man was an
enigma.  He had the reputation of a rake and held her much closer than the
regulation twelve inches. He had thought her a woman of easy virtue when she
had met him anonymously on his doorstep, and really, who could blame him.  Her
behaviour had been most irregular.  For a frightening moment, she thought that
he was going to accost her and drag her inside his home. Would he have done so?
 She wondered what he would have done if she had not been able to convince him that
she was not a member of the muslin company.

      On the morning
she had waylaid him on Hampstead Heath he had told her clearly that she was
very lucky that he had a pressing engagement.  Yet despite his words, he never
actually got around to acting in accordance with them. In fact, he had acted
honourably in all his dealings with Richard.  She looked up at him and he was
grinning at her, his humorous dark brown eyes sparkling with mischief.  ‘A
penny for your thoughts Lady Ellingham, I am hoping that you may be warming to
me and that you approve of what you see.’

      She looked up. ‘Approve?
I do not know what you mean.’

      ‘Your assessment
of me Lady Ellingham, now that we have cleared up our misunderstanding, I hope I
appear to you in a better light.’

      Felicity bit her
lower lip. ‘I have already apologised for that but as for your question, I
neither approve nor disapprove, and after all I hardly know you sir.’

      Thorndale
manoeuvred her expertly across the floor. He was a superb dancer and it was
easy to follow him.  ‘We will have to remedy that but you already know one
thing about me,’ he replied.  She frowned. ‘What is that?’

     He laughed, ‘that
I always get my way.  You swore that you would never dance with me, ‘not ever’
were your exact words if I remember correctly but here you are my sweetheart,
in my arms.’

      Felicity looked
embarrassed. ‘You are unfair sir. Circumstances have changed.  I could hardly
refuse you but I must say it was rather unscrupulous of you to mark every waltz
on my dance card.  You have put me in a predicament and people will talk.’

      ‘I do not concern
myself about meddling busybodies and they can say what they will.’

      ‘Well I do!’
Felicity retorted. ‘A man can get away with a reputation for being a rake but
females are not usually the recipients of such benevolence, I will be thought
fast.’

      Thorndale gave a
low chuckle. ‘After your antics this last week I am surprised you have any such
scruples. Myself I think that you quite intrepid.’

      ‘If you are
referring to my outing to Hampstead Heath, there was a purpose to my actions. 
The situation demanded drastic measures.  I do not court censure just for the
sake of it!’

      Thorndale found
her scruples quite charming and pulled her even closer to him.  She could feel the
hard muscles of his thighs against her own, the heat of his body against hers
and his hot breath on her neck.  Her heart skipped a beat and she felt breathless
in his arms as she melted against him. She looked up to his smiling face as he
spoke. ‘Ah but I do like to court censure. If you give me a kiss I will
consider giving you a reprieve.’

      Felicity gave him
a disapproving glare and deliberately stood heavily on his foot. ‘Ouch!’ he
muttered as he momentarily stumbled. ‘You did that on purpose you little wretch. 
Now I demand two kisses.’

Felicity gritted her
teeth. ‘You will be lucky if you get your two remaining waltzes sir.  I know
that I have been in the wrong.  I have apologised for it, and Richard much to
my annoyance, paid any debt that might have been owed on Hampstead Heath.  You
announced yourself satisfied, so I do not consider that I owe you anything.’

      ‘Oh I have held
you excused since you upset my carriage that morning. After my initial annoyance,
I found you quite enchanting. The sight of you sitting in a muddy puddle did a
lot to lighten my humour.  You owe me nothing and I know it.  I just thought
that you might indulge me out of the goodness of your heart and maybe because
you could like me a little.’

      Felicity was
mortified by the recollection, as she could hardly have appeared at her best.
She gave him a reproving stare. She was extremely attracted to him but could
not decide if she liked him and doubted very much if she could really trust
him. She found him strangely alluring and her fascination got the better of her.
She secretly wondered what it would be like to be kissed by him.  Their close
proximity was sending waves of desire through her and she was secretly cursing
the reaction of her treacherous body.

      Alex looked down
at her flushed face and whispered in her ear. ‘Do not you concern yourself my Lady
Felicity, consider yourself reprieved, I will dance only one of the remaining
waltzes with you.  Now does that make you happy?’

      Strangely, it did
not, she was irksomely disappointed but Felicity nodded her head in approval
anyway. It was the only thing she could do.  And damn the man had he just
called her by her Christian name? In her confusion, she could not be quite
sure.

      The waltz ended
and Thorndale returned her to her mother.  Richard was standing waiting for
them and whispered into Thorndale’s ear.  ‘Alex, a private moment if you
please?’  He turned to the company. ‘If you would excuse us ladies.’  The
Countess gave an absent nod of the head but Felicity was curious.  She supposed
she would have to wait but she would certainly be asking Richard later.

      Having drawn Alex
aside, he whispered. ‘I did not wish to broach the subject in front of the
others, but this business about Flick’s dance card.  Alex I shall have to
request that you confine yourself to just two dances.’  Alex gave a long slow
chuckle. ‘Already sorted Richard.  Your sister wasted no time in telling me off
in no uncertain terms. I will resign the last waltz to you.’

      Richard sighed
with relief.  He really did not want another confrontation with this man because
he found that he really quite liked him.  As far as Flick was concerned however,
his opinion remained the same and he could not consider Alex as an appropriate
suitor. He grinned. ‘Thank God the chit has some common sense in her cock loft
as I swear Alex she just lives to torment me.’

      ‘Alex laughed. ‘Your
twin I believe, and which of you is the older?’

      Richard rolled
his eyes. ‘She is, by 11 minutes and she never hesitates to remind me whenever
it suits her.  She is spontaneous, has an independent nature and therefore
finds herself in trouble more often and not.  Now that my father is dead, she
is my responsibility.  He had some influence over her, more than I have it
would appear, but I do not intend to allow her to appear fast in public.  I
will be happy when we are back in the country where she can be more of her
natural self, for she finds the restrictions of London intolerable. I must ask
you Alex not to take advantage of her naive good nature.’