Mary Brendan - Regency High Society Vol 1 - A Hasty Betrothal / A Scandalous Marriage / The Count's Charade / The Rake and the Rebel

She was unable to appreciate the extent of the parkland flashing past her and, in reality, was in no mood to do so for, as the cream stone façade of the elegant house came into view, her apprehension increased.

The great front doors were already on the point of opening as the carriage reached the steps and an elegantly attired lady of mature years was hastening out to meet Lord Sandford who, having cast the reins at Tiptree, had leapt down from his perch and was taking the stone steps two at a time with his hands outstretched.

‘Father? How is he?’ he cried, anxiously clasping his mother’s hands. ‘I am not—too late?’

But her ladyship was smiling. ‘Robbie—oh, my dear! His lordship has rallied!’ she replied joyfully. ‘But I’m so glad that you have returned! The physician is with him now—come along, quickly. He will be wanting to speak with you.’

The countess urged her son into the hallway as she spoke and, throwing his driving-coat to a waiting footman, Sandford bounded up the wide, curving staircase. Halfway to the landing he checked, turned and, with his hand on the banister, exclaimed, ‘Good grief! I almost forgot—Miss Cordell ! She is still in the curricle!’

She was not. When the groomsmen had taken the horses’ heads, Tiptree had handed Harriet down and she had nervously climbed the steps in Sandford’s wake, expecting him at least to account for her presence but, with increasing agitation, she realised that she herself would once again be responsible for the difficult explanations. She stepped hesitatingly into the well-lit hall as Lady Caroline turned in puzzlement towards her, then stiffened momentarily as she heard her ladyship’s gasp of astonishment.

‘Sally! Sally—can it be? But, no! Of course not!’

The countess stepped forward quickly to peer at Harriet’s face.

‘Please remove your hood, my dear—oh! Your hair! But the colour—and that face! Surely I would know it anywhere—Robbie! Come down at once! Who is this young lady—where is she from?’ She drew Harriet to the middle of the hall as Sandford slowly and reluctantly descended the stairs.

‘Forgive me, Mama,’ he replied, as Harriet agitatedly clutched the shabby cape around her, terrified that her disguise would be revealed both to the countess and to the several impassive servants on duty.

‘This is Miss Harriet Cordell. She requires our assistance in a rather delicate matter—shall we go into the salon?’

He took his mother’s arm and propelled her gently into a nearby withdrawing-room, signalling Harriet to accompany them. As the door closed, he drew the countess to a sofa and took up his stance by the fireplace, indicating a nearby seat to Harriet, who perched herself very gingerly on its edge, keeping the front of the cape closely about her breeched legs.

Lady Caroline waved her hand impatiently at her son. ‘What is this all about?’ she demanded. ‘This is Sally Rutherford to the letter—I should know! We were bosom bows at our come out. I don’t understand!’

She stared helplessly at Harriet, who was herself in total confusion at the older woman’s words.

‘I am Harriet Cordell, ma’am,’ she stuttered. ‘My father was Major Sir Jonathan Cordell—my mother Sarah is the daughter of Lord Douglas Ramsey …’

She stopped as Lady Caroline clapped her hands in delight.

‘Ramsey! Well, of course! He married Sally—I was her bridesmaid—he took her off to Craigburn and we never met again. We corresponded, to be sure, but she died in childbed—I always believed that her child died with her. Ramsey refused to answer any letters and I supposed him to have gone into a decline. He was much in love with Sally,’ she finished sadly.

There was a moment’s silence. Harriet cast her eyes up pleadingly at Sandford, who seemed to be studying the pattern

on the carpet with great interest. He cleared his throat and his mother looked quickly towards him and smiled.

‘Oh, dear,’ she said. ‘I am being maudlin, aren’t I? Do forgive me, my dears.’ She turned to Harriet and patted the seat next to her. ‘Come and sit by me, my child, and tell me your tale. I can see that Robert is fretting to go to his father and I feel that he will be of little use to us until he has done so.’

Harriet was only too pleased to comply with her hostess’s request and waited until Sandford had left the room before reciting her misadventures once more. The countess interrupted her flow only to clarify certain points and then sat, nodding her head in sympathy, until the tale was told.

‘—and what I have to do now, ma’am,’ Harriet spoke firmly, ‘is to ask if you will advance me the money to seek out my grandfather or perhaps …’

‘My dear child!’ Lady Caroline recoiled in distaste at the very idea. ‘I shall write to Lord Ramsey myself. Indeed, I should have done it years ago. Firstly, however, we must see to your dress—Mathilde will find you something.’

She pulled at the bell-rope beside the fireplace and, almost immediately, a footman appeared at the door.

‘Oh, March—send for Mathilde and tell Mrs Gibson to have the Rose room prepared for a lady guest.’ She turned once more to Harriet. ‘I expect you are famished too—have cook send up some substantial refreshments, March.’

The footman bowed and left the room.

‘We still keep country hours for our meals, my dear, and had our dinner at three o’clock, but I dare say a hearty supper will be welcomed by both Robert and yourself?’

Harriet nodded. Tired and aching, she was happy for the moment to place herself in her ladyship’s hands and, very soon afterwards, she found herself conducted upstairs to a delightful rose-coloured chamber overlooking the gardens at the rear of the house.

Meanwhile, Sandford had hastened to his father’s bedchamber where he was admitted by Chegwin, the earl’s elderly valet.

The viscount learned that the crisis had occurred during the early hours of that morning when Beldale had at last rallied and his fever had lessened, although he was still incoherent and weak from the blood-letting upon which Sir Basil, his physician, had insisted.

Chegwin had defied all attempts to remove him from his master’s side throughout his illness, refusing all offers of help with either the feeding of the patient or the changing of dressings, resting only when Lady Caroline herself was with his lordship.

‘I am glad to see you home, my lord,’ he welcomed Sandford softly. ‘His lordship is sleeping, but he is no longer as restless as he has been these past days.’

Sandford took his seat by the big four-poster bed and contemplated his sleeping parent gravely. The pale, lined face looked so much younger in repose and his heart softened as he recalled the days of his childhood when he and his twin had accompanied their father around the estate, proudly riding alongside him and always taking his fine example as the pattern-card for their future lives.

He was at a loss to understand how his father, an excellent horseman, had come to take such a toss. The bridleway through the woods on the far side of the estate was a wide and open one and Sandford assumed that the earl would have been riding at a gentle trot. His lordship was over seventy, it was true, but had always been of a hale and hearty disposition and fully active in all outdoor pursuits and had, hitherto, managed his large estate with enjoyment and gusto. Now, the viscount was beginning to wonder if Philip’s death had affected the earl more than he had at first supposed.

After his son’s untimely death, Beldale had been closely involved with his daughter-in-law’s business affairs. To be sure, she had an excellent estate manager in their cousin Charles Ridgeway, but the earl had deemed it his duty to oversee his grandson’s inheritance and this was one of the reasons he had felt it necessary to insist upon Sandford’s quitting his military career.