The Chaperon's Seduction(7)

He looked pained.

‘I promise you I have no intention of upsetting her.’



No, he had no intention of upsetting anyone, he thought, as he presented himself at the freshly painted front door in Charles Street later that day. He was shown into the drawing room, where Lady Phyllida received him with cool politeness.

He bowed. ‘I was pleased, yesterday, to renew my acquaintance with you, my lady.’ Her brows went up and he continued smoothly, ‘We met in town did we not, at your come-out. We danced together at Almack’s.’

This was a chance shot but he thought it had hit its mark. An added flush of colour painted her cheeks, but she spread her hands and gave him an apologetic smile.

‘I vow I cannot recall. I know my mother bullied every gentleman present to stand up with me, however reluctantly.’

‘There was no reluctance upon my part, ma’am, I assure you.’

‘But after, what is it...five years, six?...I am flattered that you should remember.’

She doesn’t believe me.

Richard kept his smile in place as he met her gaze. He had thought yesterday her eyes were grey but he saw now that they were flecked with green and her look was surprisingly direct. He had a sudden urge to tell the truth and confess that he didn’t remember her at all. Impossible, of course. He must hold his nerve.

She invited him to sit down.

‘How are you enjoying Bath?’ he asked her as he lowered himself into a chair opposite her own.

‘Very much. After the isolation of Tatham Park, Bath seems very busy.’

‘And will you put your name down in the book when the subscription opens later this month? That is necessary, I believe, if you wish to attend balls in the Upper Rooms?’

‘I shall indeed.’

‘But there is still dancing to be had, even now,’ he persisted. ‘There is a ridotto on Monday night, did you know of it?’

‘Yes, I am taking Ellen.’

‘Then we will be able to dance together again.’

The tell-tale rosiness deepened on her cheek.

‘I am going as Ellen’s chaperon, Mr Arrandale. I shall not dance.’

There was a wistful note in her voice. Faint, but he detected it.

‘Is it in the rules that widows are prohibited from dancing? I have never heard of it.’

Now why the devil had he said that? It was not the widow he wanted to dance with.



Phyllida’s nerves fluttered. Had she been mistaken? Had he really remembered standing up with her at Almack’s? She stole another look at him. He was being perfectly charming. Perhaps the lines that creased his lean cheeks might be caused by laughter rather than dissipation and wild living, despite the gossip. She did not think they detracted from his charm, either. If anything she thought him more attractive than ever, especially when he smiled at one in just that way...

She started guiltily when the door opened and Ellen came in, chattering even as she untied the ribbons of her bonnet.

‘There you are, Philly! Such fun we have had, I wish you had been there to share—oh, I beg your pardon. Hirst did not tell me you had company, but then, I did not give him time!’ She came forward, greeting their guest with her sunny smile and no hint of shyness. ‘Mr Arrandale, good day to you.’

He had jumped up when Ellen appeared and Phyllida watched him greet her, his charming smile and nicely judged bow perfectly civil. Too perfect, she thought, her earlier suspicions rising again.

‘How do you do, Miss Tatham. Have you been shopping, perhaps?’

‘No, sir, I have been to Sydney Gardens with Miss Desborough and her mama. Do you know the Desboroughs, Mr Arrandale?’

‘I’m afraid not, I have not been in Bath that long myself.’

‘Oh, I see. Well, we were introduced yesterday and Penelope and I found ourselves in such accord that Mrs Desborough invited me to join them in a walk to Sydney Gardens today. Oh, I wish you had come with us, Philly, it was quite delightful. The Ride that runs around the perimeter of the gardens is very well laid, so one can keep one’s shoes and feet dry even if the weather has been very inclement. And there is a labyrinth, too, but there was no time to go in and Mrs Desborough says we should buy a plan before we attempt it.’

‘Then we shall do so, when we visit.’ Phyllida smiled.

‘Perhaps I might escort you.’

Phyllida acknowledged Richard’s offer with a slight inclination of her head but she did not encourage him. Unperturbed he returned his attention to Ellen.

‘I understand you are attending the ridotto on Monday, Miss Tatham. I hope you will stand up with me. If your stepmama allows it, of course.’

‘I should be delighted, sir—and you will consent, will you not, Philly?’

Phyllida was tempted to refuse, but Ellen would be sure to demand the reason and she was not at all sure of the answer.

‘Of course,’ she said at last. ‘There can be no harm in you dancing with a gentleman.’ Would he notice the slight stress she put on the last word? ‘After all, the reason for bringing you to Bath was to accustom you to a larger society.’

‘And I have any number of acquaintances in Bath now,’ declared Ellen happily. ‘Not just Penelope Desborough and Julia Wakefield, who are my especial friends. Mrs Desborough was good enough to present several gentlemen to me today when we were in the gardens.’

‘Did she?’ murmured Phyllida, slightly startled by this revelation.

Ellen threw her a mischievous glance. ‘I have no doubt some of them will be seeking you out soon, Philly, for they, too, mentioned the ridotto. However I made it very clear I could not dance with any of them unless they had your approval.’

‘I am glad to hear it.’

‘And you will approve them, will you not, dearest Stepmama?’

For once Phyllida did not feel any inclination to laugh at Ellen’s sauciness. She was aware of Richard watching her and, disconcerted, she responded rather more tartly that she had intended.

‘Since I have approved Mr Arrandale, I doubt I will have any choice with the rest!’

‘But they are all very respectable, Philly, or Mrs Desborough would not have introduced them to me.’

Ellen was gazing at her, puzzled, and Phyllida pulled herself together.

‘No, of course she would not. I am sure they are all pillars of Bath society.’

A scratching at the door diverted her attention and she looked up as Matlock entered the room.

‘Signor Piangi has arrived, my lady. I have put him in the morning room.’

‘Oh, is it time for my Italian lesson already?’ cried Ellen. ‘I will come with you directly, Matty. If you will excuse me, Mr Arrandale.’

He bowed.

‘Until Monday, Miss Tatham.’

Phyllida watched Ellen skip out of the room. Matlock hovered by the door, as if unwilling to leave them alone, but Phyllida waved her away.

‘Go with her, Matty. You will remain in the morning room until the signor leaves.’ Richard was watching her and she added, as the door closed upon them, ‘It is important to me that no hint of impropriety should touch my stepdaughter while she is in Bath.’

He inclined his head. She thought for a moment he would resume his seat but instead he picked up his hat and gloves from the table.

‘I have an appointment I must keep.’ He hesitated. ‘If you and Miss Tatham would like to visit Sydney Gardens on Sunday, I should be very happy to escort you there.’

‘Thank you, sir, but, no. We are, um, otherwise engaged.’

It was not true, and she prayed he would not ask what that engagement might be.

‘Of course. Until Monday, then.’

He bowed and was gone.

Phyllida sank back into her chair, her spirits strangely depressed. She would like to believe that Richard Arrandale had merely come to pay his respects to her, that he had truly remembered dancing with her all those years ago, but she doubted it. After all, she had never been rich enough or pretty enough to attract much attention in her one and only Season. Who wanted a soft well-modulated voice when they could enjoy Miss Anston’s trilling laugh, or Miss Rollinson’s lively tones? The more direct of the mothers with daughters to wed had called her thin and unattractive.

Phyllida gave herself a little shake. That was all in the past. She had lost her girlish ranginess, her glass told her that her willowy form and firm, full breasts showed to advantage in the high-waisted, low-cut gowns that were so fashionable. Yet, for all that, she paled to insignificance when compared to her lovely stepdaughter and she would be a fool to think otherwise.

Richard Arrandale had clearly set his sights upon Ellen. She remembered how he had been watching her in the Pump Room. She might ask Lady Hune to warn him off, but although she was very fond of the indomitable marchioness she could not imagine that Sophia would have much influence over her rakish great-nephew.

No. Phyllida knew it would be up to her to keep Ellen safe.



Richard strode away down Charles Street, well pleased with his first day’s work. The widow was cautious, which was as it should be, but Ellen was friendly enough. Very young, of course, but a taking little thing. He frowned when he recalled how she had spoken of the fellows in Sydney Gardens clamouring for an introduction. He had no doubt that some—if not all—of them were involved in the wager, but he had the advantage and he intended that it should stay that way. However, he knew better than to rush his fences. He would dance with the chit on Monday night. None of the others were likely to steal her heart before then.