Stephanie Laurens: Impetuous Innocent

“But—”

Bella shook her head. “No buts. Just consider it as doing me a favour. We’ll have such fun. I’ll take you about and introduce you to all the right people.”

Despite a sudden tug of impetuosity, urging acceptance of the exciting offer, Georgiana, grappling with the flow of Bella’s burgeoning plans, felt constrained to protest. “But my la…Bella. I don’t think Lord Alton can have properly explained. I need to find a post as a companion.”

Recalling the specific instructions contained in her brother’s letter, Bella assured Georgiana that he had, indeed, explained fully. “But my dear, in order to find the right post for you, particularly considering your age, you must first become established in society.”

Bella watched the frown gathering in Georgiana’s fine eyes. Before her guest could raise any further objection, she raised one slim, restraining hand. “Now before you start arguing—and I do so hate people who must forever be sniping and finding fault—I must tell you that you will be doing me the biggest favour imaginable in allowing me to help you. You can have no idea how boring it is to pass the Season with no real purpose. The Little Season is coming up in a few weeks. I implore you to relieve my frustrations and stay with me and allow me to present you. Surely that’s not too much to ask?” Bella’s big blue eyes pleaded eloquently.

Bemused by the sudden twist the situation seemed to have taken, with Lady Winsmere now begging the favour of her company, and feeling too drained by the day’s events to fight a fate so apparently desirable, Georgiana found herself weakly acquiescing. “If it’s really not too much trouble…Just until I can find a position.”

“Splendid!” Bella grinned in delight. “Now the first thing we must do is get you settled in a bedchamber. A hot bath is just what you need. Always so soothing after travelling.”

With a magic wave of one small bejewelled hand, Bella took charge. In short order, Georgiana, her luggage, Cruickshank, dinner on a tray and a large tub together with steaming hot water to fill it had been conveyed to the best guest chamber on the floor above.

An hour later, after she had closed the door of Georgiana’s room behind her, having seen her young guest settled in bed, Bella Winsmere’s face took on a pensive frown. Slowly she descended the stairs, so deep in thought that she was halfway across the hall towards the front door before she recalled her intended destination. Swinging about, she turned her steps towards the library at the back of the house.

At the sound of the door opening, Lord Winsmere looked up from the pile of documents he was working on. His lean face lit with a smile of great warmth. He laid aside his pen to reach out a welcoming arm to his wife.

With a quick smile, Bella went to him, returning his embrace and dropping a quick kiss on his greying hair.

“I thought you were bound for Drury Lane tonight?” Lord Winsmere was more than twenty years older than his beautiful wife. His staid, sometimes regal demeanour contrasted sharply with her effervescent charm. Many had wondered why, from among her myraid suitors, Bella Ridgeley had chosen to bestow her dainty hand on a man almost old enough to be her father. But over the years society had been forced to accept the fact that the beautiful Bella was sincerely and most earnestly in love with her eminently respectable lord.

“I was, but we have an unexpected guest.”

“Oh?”

His lordship pushed his papers aside, consigning them to the morrow. If his Bella had sought him out, then she had some problem to discuss. He rose and, Bella’s hand still in his, led her to the two armchairs stationed before the fireplace.

Bella sat, chewing the tip of one rosy finger, a habit when thinking profoundly.

Smiling, Lord Winsmere seated himself opposite her and waited for her to begin.

“It’s really most intriguing.”

Inured to his spouse’s methods of explanation, Lord Winsmere made no response.

Eventually Bella gathered her wandering mind and embarked on her story. “Dominic’s sent a girl to stay.”

At that, Lord Winsmere’s brows rose sharply. But the knowledge that, despite his apparent lack of moral concern, Dominic Ridgeley had never permitted the slightest breath of scandal to touch his sister’s fair name held him silent.

“She’s a would-have-been-neighbour. Her name’s Georgiana Hartley. Her father was a painter, one James Hartley. He died in Italy some months ago and Georgiana was left to her uncle’s care. Most unfortunately, her uncle, who lived at the Place—you know, it’s that funny estate that was made by selling off a piece of Candlewick—well, he died too. Just before her father, only she didn’t know that, being in Italy. The long and the short of it is, Georgiana travelled all the way from Italy, only to find her uncle dead and her cousin Charles in charge. It only needs to add that Charles is an out-and-out bounder and you have the picture.” Bella spread her hands and glanced at her husband.

“How did Dominic come to be involved?”

“It seems Georgiana was forced to flee the Place at dawn this morning. She doesn’t know anyone—no one at all. She asked at the Three Bells, thinking to find a sympathetic lady in residence at a neighbouring estate. Of course, the Tadlows sent her to Candlewick. You know how all our people are about Dominic.”

Lord Winsmere nodded sagely, a thin smile hovering about his lips at the thought of the godlike status his far from godly brother-in-law enjoyed on his own lands.

“Well, she went to the Hall and met Duckett. And then Dominic came and persuaded her to tell him all.” Bella suddenly broke off. “Oh—are you imagining she must be some encroaching mushroom?” Her ladyship leant forward slightly and fixed her big eyes on her husband. “Truly, Arthur, it is not so. She’s the most engaging little thing. So innocent and green and so…so trusting.”

Lord Winsmere’s fine brows rose slightly.

Abruptly Bella dropped to her knees, draping her silkclad arms over her husband’s knees. She smiled, impish and seductive all at once. “Please, Arthur. Please say she may stay. You know how bored I am. She’s perfectly presentable, I give you my word. I could take her about and present her to the ton …Oh—I’d have such fun! The balls and parties are so tame, if one’s not part of the game. Please, my love. Say she may stay.”

Lord Winsmere smiled down into his wife’s upturned face while his mind canvassed the possibilities presented by her unknown guest. Their son and only child was ensconced in the country, happily growing out of short coats. Jonathon’s constitution was not sickly but did not cope well with the stale air of the capital. But his own work necessitated his presence in London. Bella, torn between the two men in her life, had chosen to remain by his side. As he doubted he could live without her, he would willingly make any sacrifice to alleviate the boredom he knew she found in the predictable rounds of tonnish entertainment. But an unknown girl? And, if he knew his Bella, she meant to fire the chit off with all flags flying. Not that the expense worried him. But was the girl truly as innocent as Bella, herself not much more experienced for all her matronliness, believed?

He reached out a finger to trace the graceful curve of his wife’s brow. Impulsively, she caught his hand and kissed it, then continued to hold it in a warm clasp, her eyes on his face.

“You needn’t worry about the cost. Dominic said to charge everything to him.”

“Did he, indeed? How very magnanimous, to be sure.” Lord Winsmere’s mobile lips twitched. Dominic Ridgeley had inherited a fortune of sizeable proportions and could easily afford to underwrite the launching of an unknown damsel into the ton. The question that exercised Lord Winsmere’s mind was why his hedonistic brother-in-law should wish to do such a peculiar thing.