She scooped up the little basket and began to walk away.
‘I should not have had to do so.’
He laughed softly as he fell in beside her.
‘I believe I deserved some reward for rescuing a damsel in distress.’
She stopped, saying angrily, ‘What you deserve, sir—’
‘Yes?’
He was smiling down at her, sending her thoughts once more into disorder. Alarms clamoured in her head, it was as much as she could do not to throw herself at him and the glint in his blue eyes told her he knew it. With a hiss of exasperation she walked on.
‘You deserve to be shamed publicly for your behaviour.’
‘Ah, but the Arrandales have no shame, did you not know that?’
He spoke lightly, but there was something in his tone, a faint hint of bitterness that undermined her indignation. It could have been a ploy, a trick to gain her sympathy, but somehow she did not think so. With a sudden flash of insight she thought he was like a child, behaving badly because it was expected of him.
‘Oh, how despicable you are!’ she exclaimed. ‘I should be scolding you for your outrageous behaviour and instead—’ She broke off.
‘Yes?’ he prompted her gently.
I want to take you in my arms and kiss away your pain.
Phyllida was appalled. She had come very close to saying the words aloud. With a tiny shake of her head she almost ran the last few yards to where Mrs Desborough and Lady Wakefield were sitting under a large parasol.
The two ladies greeted Phyllida cheerfully and although they noted her flushed countenance, they put it down to too much sun and suggested she should come and sit with them in the shade. Mr Desborough, who was now awake and enjoying a glass of claret, invited Richard to join him.
As the ladies admired her basket of blackberries, sympathised with her ruined gloves and uttered up thanks that she had not spoiled her gown, Phyllida recovered her equilibrium. She decided not to say anything about Richard’s disgraceful behaviour, especially since it did not reflect well upon her own judgement in allowing him to take such a liberty.
No, she thought, as the others returned and they prepared to make their way back to Bath, she had learned a valuable lesson and she would be sure Richard Arrandale had no opportunity to repeat it, or to try such tricks upon her stepdaughter.
Chapter Seven
The season had not yet started in Bath but the Assembly Rooms were crowded for the latest ball. Lady Wakefield had offered to include Ellen in her party, but Phyllida had decided she should go, too. She was concerned at the number of gentlemen who were vying for Ellen’s attention, so much so that she had mentioned it to Lady Hune, when they had met a few days earlier. Ellen was attending her dancing class and Phyllida had taken the opportunity to call upon Lady Hune and enquire after her health, but the dowager’s kindness encouraged Phyllida to confide in her.
‘I had not thought there would be so many gentlemen in Bath on the lookout for a wife,’ she admitted. ‘Ellen’s inheritance is held in trust until she attains her majority in four years’ time but even that knowledge does not seem to deter them.’
‘And does Ellen favour any of these gentlemen?’
‘No, she doesn’t, and that is the most comforting thing, ma’am. She is a minx, and willing to flirt with them, although I make sure she does not go too far, and I allow none of them to be alone with her.’ Phyllida stopped, frowning, trying to make sense of her worries. ‘I wonder if perhaps I made a mistake in bringing her to Bath. Only, she could no longer remain at the school, and to incarcerate her at Tatham Park would have been too cruel. You see, the families of her close friends have moved away and the society there is somewhat limited now.’
‘As you have discovered in the past year.’
She gave a reluctant smile. ‘Precisely, ma’am. Oh, I know I was in mourning, but it would have been a comfort to have at least a few families I could call upon, instead of having to entertain my husband’s relatives.’
‘Is that Walter Tatham?’ asked Sophia. ‘He was always a pompous slow-top. I never met his wife but I suppose she is the same—you need not say so, my dear, I can tell by your face that it is the case.’
‘I do not mean to be unkind, but when one has been the mistress of one’s own household for years...’
‘They tried to browbeat you, I suppose.’ The dowager gave a little huff of exasperation.
‘The thing is, they were against my bringing Ellen to live with me, and I...’ Phyllida bit her lip ‘...I wonder now if they were right.’
‘Nonsense, it is doing you the world of good to be out in society again. You have regained your glow.’
‘You are very kind, ma’am, but it is not about me.’
‘From what I know of your stepdaughter she is well able to look after herself,’ retorted Sophia. ‘She is a very pretty-behaved young lady, confident, yes, and spirited, I always like that in a girl, but she also appears to be quite sensible. She will do very well, as long as none of these fellows steals her heart.’ She fell silent and from the shadow of pain that crossed her face Phyllida thought that perhaps she was thinking of Lady Cassandra, her granddaughter. Phyllida waited, not wishing to disturb the old lady’s thoughts and after a few moments the dowager gave herself a little shake and resumed, saying briskly, ‘Let her enjoy herself, within the bounds of propriety, and she will do very well.’
Sophia had hesitated for a moment, then changed the subject. Looking back, Phyllida wondered if she had been about to ask if Richard Arrandale was one of those paying court to Ellen, but the old lady was sharp enough to know the answer to that. If Lady Hune would warn him off, then all to the good, thought Phyllida now, as she watched Ellen going down the dance with Henry Fullingham.
Phyllida felt a little guilty because her concern over Ellen was not the only reason she had decided to attend the ball. She had given in to the temptation to put on one of her old ball gowns. When she had seen that Phyllida was prepared to dance, Lady Wakefield had immediately found her a partner, and since she had assured her that she was perfectly able to keep an eye on Ellen as well as Julia, Phyllida gave herself up to the enjoyment of the music. She was not quite lost to all sense of her responsibilities, but Ellen appeared to have a partner for every new set, so Phyllida salved her conscience with the thought that the child could come to very little harm while she was dancing.
Richard saw Phyllida as soon as he entered the ballroom. She was on the dance floor, the folds of her peach-coloured gown flowing gracefully around her elegant figure as she moved. She was laughing at something her partner was saying, her face was positively glowing with happiness and his breath caught in his throat. She might not be an accredited beauty but there was an elusive charm about the lady that made her stand out from the crowd.
He dragged his eyes away. This was not why he was here, his goal was to secure a fortune by winning the hand of Ellen Tatham. The previous evening at Burton’s gaming hell he had heard the other fellows complaining that it was impossible to get the heiress alone. She was friendly to a fault, blushed adorably at their compliments, but made no effort to dismiss her maid when they were out together, nor would she allow herself to be separated from her friends. And if she was escorted by her stepmother the two were well-nigh inseparable.
Richard had said nothing but he was faring no better. In fact, whenever he met Ellen and Lady Phyllida the chit seemed to delight in palming him off on her stepmama. No, the only chance of a private word with Miss Ellen Tatham was on the dance floor and he quickly scanned the room for her. She was partnered by young Naismith, who was gazing at her with blatant adoration as they trod the final measure of a lively country dance. The music was ending and Richard saw his chance. He moved forward as Naismith escorted his partner from the floor. Ellen was already smiling but her smile widened when she saw him. Naismith was dismissed even before Richard had begged the honour of leading her out for the next set.
‘Mr Arrandale, how delightful!’ She tucked her hand in his arm and began to walk away with him. ‘I would be very happy to stand up with you, sir, but first you must dance with my stepmama.’
‘What?’
His step faltered but the little hand on his sleeve pulled him on. He could see Phyllida standing only feet away. She had just walked off the floor on the arm of an elderly brigadier.
‘It is a rule I have made for tonight,’ Ellen told him. ‘Stepmama, here is your next dance partner!’
The brigadier bowed and walked away. Lady Phyllida looked around, her smile slipping a little when she saw Richard arm in arm with her stepdaughter. Then, as the meaning of Ellen’s words sank in she blushed scarlet.
‘My dear child, do not be absurd!’
‘I told you I would not stand up with any gentleman tonight unless he had first danced with you.’
‘Does that include the brigadier?’ murmured Richard.
‘No, but he pounced on Phyllida without my having to ask him.’
‘Ellen, you cannot order people around in this way!’ hissed Phyllida, frowning at her.
Richard put up his hand.
‘Believe me, ma’am, I should be delighted to stand up with you.’
‘Thank you, sir, it is not at all necessary.’