Regency Rumours/A Scandalous Mistress/Dishonour And Desire (30 page)

Staring wistfully into the tea room where the hum of gossip was warming to its newest subject, Dorna remarked quietly to Amelie that she had done her a favour, if only she knew it.

‘Done you a favour?’ whispered Amelie. ‘Whatever can you mean?’

‘I mean, dear heart, that no one is now going to think anything of my attending the ball with Captain Rankin after that débâcle, are they? And as for you wondering about the scandal, well, why worry? You’ll be halfway home by this time tomorrow, darling. Even Mother could not have timed it better. And when you and Nick return next year, half will have forgotten and the other half will envy you.’

‘Dorna …’ Amelie laughed. ‘You’re impossible.’

‘Maybe, but I know what I’m talking about.’ They finished the evening at the White Hart Inn round a blazing fire, eating a supper that surpassed the one they had missed at the New Assembly Rooms and deciding, among other absurdities, that the ballroom guests should be asked to pay extra for the impromptu entertainment. Until they remembered the damaged ceiling that they themselves would be expected to pay for.

Though traumatic in many respects, the evening marked yet another milestone in Amelie’s relationship with Nick, now that Hurst could do no more damage. From the White Hart, the mood of relief continued into Amelie’s bedroom, for now she had shared the dread secret, and with credentials like that, Nick told her, she was worthy to join the scandalous ranks of his family with her head held high. Being a northerner with trade connections could only add a touch of spice, he said.

That night, their loving was unhurried and very tender, both of them having recognised, in a very dramatic manner, the true depth of their love for each other, after having come close to the prospect of losing everything they lived for. It had scared Nick as much as Amelie, his dive at Hurst being, he admitted, not so much an act of heroism but fear of losing her. It was a vision he never wanted to see again.

Over and again, they assured each other of their everlasting, profound and unconditional love as they had not thought needful before. They had never been guilty of taking it lightly, but now the telling of it held a new significance they were unlikely to forget, and their night in Amelie’s bed was made all the sweeter by the most beauteous words of love either of
them had ever used or heard. She told him of his rare ability to listen to a woman, to look at her as if she mattered to him, and he used new words to describe her luscious body, her compassion, courage and independence, her grace and flawless taste, her devotion to her relatives’ needs, which went, he said, well beyond most women’s loyalty.

‘Well, my lord,’ she whispered, nestling closer, ‘you tested
that
to the limit, did you not? Never has a woman been faced with such a terrible dilemma. It was truly outrageous.’

‘Was it so very wicked of me?’

‘No,’ she said, smiling at his tone of contrition, ‘it wasn’t. It was shocking, but I was not as insulted as all that. I wanted you, you see.’

‘
Did
you, wench?’ he drawled, sliding his hand into deep places. ‘Is that what made you link your name with mine so easily?’

‘No, you were simply the first name that sprang to mind, my lord.’

‘Really? And all that protesting, then?’

‘Was to slow you down, brute.’ She caught at his hand. ‘You were all for leaping into my bed there and then, and I was determined to make you wait.’

Rolling himself on top of her, he sensed her body’s response to him. ‘And who won, my beauty? Eh? Who was it needed a new experience to add to her growing list? That was a bonus I certainly didn’t expect.’

She could have continued the verbal fencing, but the quest of his hands was already luring her mind away along a different course, and the story of what she had heard in the jeweller’s shop would have to wait for another night, as would her growing certainty of a new Elyot within her.

***

Their sedate and good-humoured progress from Bath in several carriages was a far cry from their individual journeys in the opposite direction which, with the exception of Dorna, had been undertaken with some degree of anxiety. After an overnight stay at Marlborough, which taxed the poor innkeeper’s resources to the limit, they came to Richmond in a kind of convoy that caught the Sunday citizens unawares. Full of curiosity, they lined the roadway on their way to evening church, waving and welcoming, setting the tone for the next bright phase of Amelie’s life.

She discovered a few changes to her house on Paradise Road, the most important being the instalment of the new laundry-woman and her baby Emily from the workhouse. Even better was the attention the two were receiving from her young gardener Fenn, who liked to see nature reproduce itself and who had helped to make the mother and child’s settling-in so comfortable.

Losing not a moment, Nick arrived just after breakfast on Monday morning to take Amelie, Caterina and her father to Sheen Court to meet his parents, an event that no longer filled her with trepidation as it once had. She was able to see how, in his fifties, the handsome Marquess of Sheen resembled his son in manner and speech as well as in looks, controlled, intelligent and unstintingly appreciative, thoughtful, yet quite droll in his attitude to his sons, whom he treated like younger brothers. White-haired and still athletic, he and Stephen Chester put on a display of fencing in the great hall as if they had known each other for years.

Nor was Amelie disappointed with Lady Sheen’s reaction
to her, for the chattery Dorna had already regaled her mother with an account of events at the ball and so, by the time they came face to face, Amelie’s reputation had gone before her. To have had men fight over her
twice
by the age of twenty-four was more than even the Marchioness could boast of, but no wonder when she was such a beauty, she said, generously.

‘No … oh, no, my lady,’ said Amelie, glancing at Nick to obtain some backing. ‘It was not quite like that.’

In front of the heavy gilded mirror, Nick was tweaking at his cravat with a frown of concentration on his face. ‘Nonsense,’ said his mother. ‘Any other reason would be too sordid and not worth repeating. This is a
lovely
bit of scandal, my dear. But tell me, having family connections with Manchester, could you be … by any chance … related to the Scales family? Fanny Scales was a friend of mine. Such an unusual beauty. You have her look about you.’

‘Viscountess Winterbourne
was
related,’ Amelie said, ‘on my mother’s side, I believe.’

‘I thought as much,’ said the Marchioness. ‘They were a lovely family. I was so very fond of her. Dear Fanny. You must allow Lawrence to paint you, you know.’

‘He already has, Mother,’ said Nick, turning away from his reflection with a sigh.

‘Good heavens. Lawrence has a waiting list as long as my arm these days,’ said the Marchioness. ‘Now, about this dinner party on Wednesday. Come and look at the guest list, both of you.’

By the time she left that day, Amelie and Lady Sheen were close friends with more in common than ever she could have imagined, their concern for unfortunate women not the least of it. To her delight, Nick’s father invited her to become a member of Richmond’s Vestry, which she promptly accepted,
thinking that, if Nick had mentioned her interest in parish concerns, he must have concentrated on the more positive aspects rather than the unorthodox ones.

As the doyen of Richmond society, the Marchioness was delighted by the prospect of taking a beauty like Miss Chester under her graceful wing and, turning her this way and that, declared that no door would be closed to her by the end of next season. It was all Stephen Chester could have hoped for and all Caterina had dreamed of, though she was never to discover the full story behind the success.

Before the all-important dinner party, which would be a farewell to Seton and a celebration of Amelie and Nick’s future, Nick walked Amelie through the village one evening just as dark was falling. The lamplighter was doing his rounds with his ladder and torch, the green in the middle of Richmond was emptying of children playing conkers and chasing hoops, and a horse and cart rumbled past on its way home from the brewery on Water Lane with the aroma of roasted hops.

‘Where are we going now?’ Amelie said, as they turned into Paradise Road. ‘You’re being very mysterious, my lord.’

‘Will you sit a while?’

‘What, here? On the church wall? Why, my lord?’

‘Because it’s probably the nearest we’re going to get to where the paradise garden used to be at the eastern end of the old friary. It’s not quite as romantic as that, I’m afraid,’ he said, peering over the wall at the outline of tombstones, ‘but it seems to be a tradition our family has that proposals take place as near to the paradise as one can get, sweetheart. Will this do, d’ye think?’

‘For a proposal of marriage, my love? Oh, I think so. Just here? You were not intending to take me by surprise, then?’

‘Yes, but I muffed it, didn’t I?’ He sat beside her, pulled up one tail of his dark blue coat and fumbled in its lining for the small pocket. ‘Ah, there it is. Now, is this going to fit, I wonder?’

‘Er … is this as romantic as it gets, my lord?’

‘Well … er, no. But I hesitate to kneel on this muddy pavement in my best pants. I will if you wish it, but … I’ve never done this before,’ he said, plaintively.

‘I’m delighted to hear it. If you must know, that was one of the conditions of my acceptance. I would not like such a proposal to be second-hand, you see. A proposal to be your
mistress
at second-hand would be different, of course, because then I might be number twenty-seven, or eight, and one must accept that …’

‘Will you shut up, woman,’ he said, ‘and let me get a word in edgeways? Good grief, I can just about live with the blackcurrant juice in the decanter, but this is getting ridiculous. Now, what was I saying?’

‘A proposal?’

‘A what?’

‘Stop teasing. What’s that in your hand?’

‘This? Blessed if I know. Let’s have a look. Can’t see properly in this light.’

‘Then let me look. Oh … oh, Nick! That is…. so beautiful.’

‘What is it?’

‘A ring, idiot.’

‘Is that an acceptance, then?’ His arms went round her before she could reply, and it was several moments before either of them could remember at which point they should resume negotiations.

Leaning against him, Amelie stretched out a hand, twisting it under the light from the parish lamp to catch the gleam of
the magnificent fire-opal surrounded by blue flashing diamonds. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered. ‘And since you ask, yes, I will marry you.’

‘It’s just for the ring, isn’t it?’ he teased. ‘And my perch-phaeton.’

‘Well … er … they might be two good reasons. The house would be another—the name—the lovemaking too, that’s quite good. Then there’s—’

‘Enough, woman. The real reason, if you please.’ ‘A certain condition? Does that qualify?’ He stared at her, his face a picture of sheer delight. ‘Amelie?’ She nodded. ‘It’s a bit early to be sure, but I think it’s possible.’ All teasing ended, he drew her again into his arms, holding her to him as if he would never release her, lost for words, swaying gently. ‘My darling … sweetheart … my beautiful fruitful woman … my adored one. I am the happiest of men.’ ‘My lord,’ she whispered. ‘My dearest lord.’ It was not quite the done thing for adults, in love or not, to walk with their arms around each other, hip to hip, past the very elegant and proper Georgian houses lining Paradise Road. But these two did, too lost in each other to care about propriety and too much in love with their future together to dwell any longer on the problems of the past.

B
y anybody’s standards, the dinner party held by the Marquess and Marchioness of Sheen for their sons was a splendidly successful event that was not an ordeal for either Amelie or Caterina, knowing so many of the guests. The betrothal of Lord Nicholas Elyot to Lady Chester was announced, after which he presented his brother Seton with four handsome horses to take with him next week when he joined the Prince of Wales’s own regiment, the 10th Light Dragoons. Only the two brothers knew the true significance of this generosity. Seton’s farewell to Caterina was, at her own devising, the same as that to everyone else, a kiss, a handshake, a smile and a blessing. Anything else, she said, would be superfluous.

But now the romantic focus had shifted slightly towards Miss Chester’s father for, when they departed for Buxton the next day, Miss Hannah Elwick travelled with them, expecting to stay quite some time. When Caterina returned to Richmond just after Christmas, however, Hannah did not accompany her.

Nor was Tam Elwick expected to return for at least two years
from his tour of Europe with a scholarly family friend, but no one seemed to mind that as much as they missed his sister.

Amelie’s hopes of their becoming parents were fulfilled the next summer when she gave birth to a lusty young Elyot with a healthy pair of lungs who was given one of the family names of Adrian. But it would be inaccurate to say that the parents were in paradise, because by that time, Number 18 Paradise Road had been taken over by Stephen Chester and his growing family, while Amelie had gone to live at Sheen Court.

For the sake of the story, a slight inaccuracy exists in the dates given for Lady Nelson’s residency in Bath, where Amelie met her. It was not until November that Viscountess Nelson went to stay in Sydney Place and almost immediately heard of the death of her husband, Admiral Lord Nelson, at Trafalgar on October 21st. News travelled very slowly. The sad story of the second of Lady Hamilton’s twin daughters, however, is unfortunately a fact.

The escapades of Lady Adorna Pickering and Sir Nicholas Rayne in Elizabethan Richmond mentioned by Lady Dorna Elwick in Chapter Eight, are fully recounted in
One Night in Paradise
.

Coming soon is a continuation of Miss Caterina Chester’s story.

Dishonour

and Desire

Juliet Landon