106. Love's Dream in Peril Read online

  Lady Ireton’s grip was immovable. Strong as he was, her determination to keep him with her was stronger.

  “You must leave her alone. This girl, Adella, is very young, very inexperienced. All this attention from the male sex is turning her head, which is quite natural. If you run to her now and show her that you are jealous and start urging her to accept your proposal, you will most definitely lose her.”

  “No!”

  “Leave the girl. Let her see what she is missing!”

  “How can I?”

  Lord Ranulph felt as if the breath had been knocked from him by her words.

  “You must. If she is yours, Ranulph, she will come back to you. If she is not, then you are well rid of her.”

  “But how can I?” he said again, shocked to realise that he was almost weeping.

  “Easily, my dear.”

  Now a winsome and flirtatious smile crept onto Lady Ireton’s lips. She let go of Major’s reins.

  “I am homeward bound, it is almost luncheontime. Ride with me, Ranulph.”

  As if it had heard her mention of home, her grey horse tossed its head, fretting to be on the move.

  Lord Ranulph, hurt and confused though he was, could not help but admire how elegantly she sat on the restive beast and how supple and slender her tightly-laced waist was under her dark-green riding habit.

  It was hard to believe that Lady Ireton was only a few years younger than his Mama, she was so youthful and so alive.

  She was indeed a striking and beautiful woman, he thought. And then he recalled Adella, her lovely young face, her soft eyes and the glory of her golden hair.

  What was he thinking of? Lady Ireton’s charms could not in any way compare with Adella’s sweet tender beauty.

  “I must go to her,” he insisted.

  “No! Do that and you may lose her, let her wonder where you are and what you are doing. Absence makes the heart grow much fonder. You are the most eligible young gentleman in London, make no mistake. She cannot fail to miss you if you don’t call upon her for a few days.”

  “I must know that she will be my wife. How can I live until I have had her answer? And what if she is seeing this other man?”

  “Come.” She flicked her whip. “Ride with me.”

  Despite himself, Lord Ranulph loosed the reins so that Major could walk alongside her grey horse.

  “But then what if Adella turns me down?” he said, scarcely able to utter the words.

  Lady Ireton shrugged.

  “She will not, if you keep your courage and leave her to think it over.”

  Her dark eyes travelled over his face, watching him through the veil that wreathed her green velvet hat.

  “If she is really yours, she will come back to you. Remember that.”

  “I cannot bear to wait.”

  “You are a passionate man, I know, but forgive me, I think you know very little of the ways of women. She is a sweet little thing. But is she the right girl for you? Has she the breeding, the spirit, to make you a good wife?”

  “How dare you criticise her! She has spirit – ”

  “Yes, more than I would have thought. But she is so slight, she looks so small beside you. Would you not be happier with another, perhaps a more aristocratic girl? ”

  “She is the one! I knew so the first moment I laid eyes on her.”

  Lady Ireton laid her gloved hand on his arm again, but more gently this time.

  “Don’t rush into marriage,” she advised. “There are many advantages to the single state. I was very fond of Lord Ireton, but I cannot deny that I am altogether much happier as a widow and I am in no hurry to give up my independence.”

  Lord Ranulph could not understand why she was telling him this. He felt suddenly impatient with so much conversation.

  “I must go to her!” he reiterated.

  Lady Ireton’s eyebrows arched over her languorous eyes.

  “Will you ride home with me, Lord Ranulph? We could take luncheon together.”

  She looked up at him through her veil and tapped her riding whip softly against the side of her leg.

  Lord Ranulph felt a strange shiver pass through his body. She was turning her horse now, looking at him, the invitation plain to see in her eyes.

  Could it be that she would offer him more than luncheon, if he accepted?

  But, how could he think of such a thing, when he loved Adella? He pulled Major to a halt.

  Lady Ireton did not look back, as she rode slowly away from him, but he saw how her waist under her tight green habit swayed to her mount’s long strides.

  ‘Perhaps she is right,’ he thought, as he watched her go, ‘when she tells me not to press Adella for an answer. If Lady Ireton had implored me just now, begged me to go home with her, I would have refused at once and I would not have been tempted to follow her.

  ‘Yet now she rides away from me in that graceful, enticing manner, ignoring me and yet I am drawn to her, even though it is Adella who I love.’

  Lord Ranulph shook his head and gathered up his reins.

  “Thank you, Lady Ireton,” he called out after her departing back. “But I am otherwise engaged.”

  As he left Hyde Park, he turned Major’s head not towards Dorset Square, as he so longed to do, but towards Fowles Place.

  He would master his unruly emotions and then win Adella’s hand with calm determination.

  He would keep his distance.

  But, at all costs, he would win her.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Adella scarcely felt the pavement beneath her feet as she walked back to No. 82, for it was as if she was being borne along on bright wings of happiness.

  Digby had not forgotten her!

  He had deeply regretted not writing to her before he left Oxford and, now that she understood why he had not been able to, she could only forgive him.

  She closed her eyes for a moment and leant on the railings outside the house, as she conjured up once more the moment when he had held her in his arms.

  ‘How could I ever have doubted him and thought him cold-hearted and forgetful?’ she wondered.

  She remembered the kiss he had snatched from her lips before they parted and the sweet joy of it filled her with singing.

  But she could not linger out here in the street all day like a serving girl playing truant from her chores. She must not fret, as Digby was living just a few doors away and had promised that he would see her again very soon.

  Adella let go of the railings and skipped up the front steps and into the house.

  As soon as the front door had clicked shut behind her, Uncle Edgar stepped out from the drawing room and Adella could not help smile as something in his unusually cheerful expression reminded her of the little cuckoo that popped out from his wooden clock.

  “Adella, you have been out in the Square for a very long time. And you have a very different expression on your face from the one I saw at breakfast.”

  “I had a lovely walk,” Adella told him. “The fresh air was delightful.”

  “I doubt it was that which brought such a fine glow to your cheeks. I suppose you encountered your beau while you were perambulating in the Square?”

  “Yes, yes, I did,” Adella sighed.

  She was so bemused with happiness at the thought of the moment when she first saw Digby that she did not realise what Uncle Edgar meant.

  He smiled.

  “His Lordship called just a few moments after you had left the house and asked for my permission to propose to you. I told him where he might find you.”

  “Oh – !” Her breath caught in her throat. “Lord Ranulph – ”

  “Who else? He was most eager to join you.”

  Of course, it must have been Lord Ranulph she had seen while she was with Digby.

  “I trust your ardent admirer renewed his proposal and met with a more favourable reception than last night?” Uncle Edgar was saying, an eager light in his eyes.

  “No, no, not at all – ” Adella beg
an, trying to think how she could explain.

  “Might I congratulate the future Lady Fowles?”

  She had to sit down, as she was suddenly feeling very weak.

  “I – did see Lord Ranulph in the Square.”

  She shivered, as she recalled the tall figure standing on the path staring at her.

  Uncle Edgar looked at her.

  “You have turned very pale. Are you not well?”

  Adella shook her head, but she was feeling so faint that she had to close her eyes for a moment.

  Why had she accepted the gift of those beautiful Hanoverian horses from Lord Ranulph and why, why had she told him that she would consider his proposal?

  Now that she had found Digby again and felt the absolute thrill of his arms around her and his lips against hers, she knew that she loved him and that no other man ever could take his place.

  “Perhaps the prospect of becoming the Mistress of Manningham is a little daunting for you,” her uncle said, a glint of greed in his eyes.

  “Not at all,” Adella replied and she forced herself to continue. “I have not agreed to marry Lord Ranulph.”

  “What? Still playing with him! You’ve a nerve.”

  And then he laughed out loud. Adella was shocked, as she had not heard her uncle laugh like that before.

  “Well – Adella. Don’t keep him waiting too long. He is undoubtedly boiling over with impatience. A most impetuous young man. I hate to think what he would do if you turned him down again.”

  Uncle Edgar pulled out a large pocket handkerchief and wiped his face, which had turned rather red.

  “And I am impatient as well, miss! I would like to have this engagement in the bag before too long. Make sure this is the last time you keep him on tenterhooks.”

  Adella took a deep breath and was about to tell her uncle once again that she had no intention of ever marrying Lord Ranulph, but he was now walking out of the drawing room, shaking his head and chuckling to himself.

  Why did he think it so funny that Lord Ranulph cared for her so much and that she had refused him?

  One thing was certain, once Uncle Edgar knew the truth of her feelings, he would not be amused at all, but coldly and furiously angry.

  It would almost be easier to convince her would-be fiancé that she would never, never accept his proposal and especially now he had seen her in the Square with Digby.

  Adella closed her eyes and pictured Lord Ranulph’s strong features and the solemn expression that was often to be seen on his face and knew her task would not be easy.

  But she had to go through with it, as she could never be his wife.

  Once he knew the truth he would understand and would withdraw his proposal. If only he would call on her again soon, as she would have no rest until she told him.

  Adella waited by the window of her bedroom all through that afternoon, but Lord Ranulph did not come.

  She passed the time by writing to Jane, telling her about Lord Ranulph’s proposal and explaining that she could not accept it.

  She did not write anything about her meeting with Digby as how could she possibly describe how wonderful it had been and the extraordinary happiness she had felt.

  She would wait and tell her friend in person when she came to London.

  For, just before she sealed the letter and sent it to the post, Adella did not forget to add a postscript, telling Jane that Mrs. Dryden was looking for a Governess.

  That night Adella lay awake for many hours, her cheek buried in the folds of Digby’s handkerchief, until she fell into a troubled sleep, her last thought being that surely Lord Ranulph would call tomorrow.

  But he did not. Nor did he come the next day or the day after that, until a whole week had passed and Uncle Edgar was very angry with Adella indeed.

  “See what your foolishness has done,” he shouted at dinner one night. “That’ll teach you to play hard to get!”

  Adella longed more than ever for the comfort of Digby’s arms around her, as she felt so alone as she sat at table and endured her uncle’s bitter sarcastic comments.

  *

  The elegant drawing room at No. 90 Dorset Square was a world away from the hustle and bustle of Mottram’s School for Young Ladies, Jane thought.

  Mrs. Dryden sat opposite her, looking through the letter of application that Jane had sent to her.

  Her brown hair was arranged in a neat chignon and she seemed all grace and simplicity, although she looked worn and tired and her voice was soft and low.

  “You say you have not been a Governess before?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “My younger children are very lively. It will take a person of character and experience to keep them in order and impart some learning to them.”

  Jane explained that she was accustomed to dealing with excitable pupils at her previous job as a teacher.

  “You have brought references with you, I assume?” Mrs. Dryden held out her hand.

  Jane blushed. This was difficult. She had asked Mrs. Mottram several times if she might apply for a post as Governess, but her requests had always been refused.

  She could not tell Mrs. Dryden that this morning she had run away from Mottram’s School and that the bag which she had left next to the umbrella stand in the hall contained all her worldly possessions.

  There was a sudden commotion outside the door of the drawing room, a scuffling of feet and whispering.

  Mrs. Dryden rose and went to the door.

  “Ned. Agnes. What is going on?”

  “We want to see the Governess!” Jane heard a girl’s voice asking.

  “Not now, my dears. Where is Digby? Can he not take you out for a ride on the ponies we have been lent?”

  “He is studying in his room,” the child’s voice said despondently.

  Mrs. Dryden sighed.

  “Yes, he is. But perhaps, Ned, you may interrupt him for an hour or so. Tell him that I told you to do so. I must have peace and quiet to conduct my interview.”

  For a brief instant Jane saw two little heads peer round the door and then there was a thud of departing feet.

  “Please, children. Don’t run while you are inside the house,” Mrs. Dryden called after them.

  She came back to her chair and looked at Jane.

  “You can see that they are quite a handful.”

  Jane’s skin was tingling. Had she just heard Mrs. Dryden say ‘Digby’? And was that not Digby Dryden the name of the young man she and Adella had met in Oxford?

  Could it be the same person? Surely it had to be!

  She quickly composed herself.

  “Yes, ma’am, they seem very lively, but I think that the best way with young children is to keep them busy and happy and to harness their natural energies without losing any of their liveliness is what I always strive to do.”

  Mrs. Dryden raised her eyebrows.

  “The others I have interviewed for the post have been in favour of a stricter regime of discipline and order.”

  “I can only speak from experience,” Jane said. Her heart was suddenly beating painfully fast.

  Mrs. Dryden seemed to have forgotten all about the references, but what would she do if the lady decided not to employ her?

  She had only a very little money hidden inside her case. Just enough for a few days of board and lodging.

  But Mrs. Dryden’s face was suddenly illuminated with a smile.

  “I shall take a chance on you, Miss Hartley,” she said. “You are modest and quiet and yet I sense a strength and a wisdom in you that will stand you in good stead with my rambunctious horde. You may have a month’s trial.”

  Jane was so surprised and delighted that she found herself trembling. She raised her hands to her face to calm herself.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Dryden,” she managed to say after a while. “I will endeavour to fulfil your expectations.”

  Mrs. Dryden asked if Jane would care to commence her employment immediately and, when she heard Jane’s affirmative reply
, her tired face brightened even more.

  “Come, let me show you to your room. I expect you will prefer to take your meals there rather than with the servants. The young man who is staying with us, Digby, a distant cousin of my husband’s and, who studies and works with him in Chambers, prefers to do that.

  “What a sad story,” she continued. “The young man has lost his inheritance and now has to support his family.”

  Jane nodded, her head spinning as she took it all in.

  “I shall send up some dinner for you, Miss Hartley, and you may meet the children in the morning, when you are rested.”

  “Thank you very much, Mrs. Dryden,” Jane said, feeling lightheaded with relief at the thought of living in this spacious house and working for this gentle woman, so different to bad-tempered Mrs. Mottram.

  “The Judge and I are dining out,” Mrs. Dryden told her. “And then we are going to the opera. I shall see you tomorrow.”

  Jane thanked her once again and looked around the pleasant little bedroom, complete with desk and chair that was to be hers while she worked for the Drydens.

  “Thank you, dearest Adella,” she whispered.

  She pulled out the crumpled letter she had received a few days before and pored over it again.

  So Lord Ranulph had proposed and Adella had turned him down.

  Jane was really longing to hear all about what had happened. She must try and speak to her friend at the first opportunity, just as soon as she had come to grips with her new post as Governess.

  *

  On the very same evening that Jane took up residence at the Drydens’ house, Lady Ireton was preparing to attend a dinner party followed by a visit to the opera.

  Her toilette took longer these days than when she was a young woman. But it was worth taking extra trouble to have her maid dress her hair so that the grey hairs were hidden and a little discreet rouge added to her cheeks.

  Lady Ireton was still a good-looking woman with glowing eyes and high cheekbones, but the bloom of youth, alas, could never be quite perfectly recaptured.

  She told her maid to bring the tinted lip salve and then move the candle so it did not shine quite so brightly on her face.

  She found herself thinking of the exquisite little girl with the golden hair, who had attracted so much attention at her ball.