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Authors: Elizabeth Bailey

Tags: #historical romance, #regency romance, #clean romance, #surrender, #georgian romance, #scandalous

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BOOK: Undesirable Liaison
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But her
annoyance faded into compassion as Lady Painscastle proceeded to
demolish her sister’s half-hearted protests.

‘What is it
Jerome wants of me? Why does he send me someone who is bound to
fidget and fluster me?’

‘Fidget and
fluster you? Nothing of the sort. All Langriville wants is your
comfort, I am persuaded.’

‘Comfort?’ A
doubtful glance swung towards Flo, and as quickly away again. ‘I
cannot think it will make me in the least comfortable.’

‘Yes it will,’
said Lady Painscastle, a trifle of impatience in her voice.
‘Nothing could be better, Avice. You are too much alone. Have I not
been saying so forever? Indeed, I am surprised Langriville had not
seen fit to employ a female to sit with you before this.’

‘Sit with me?
Oh, dear, must she?’

Lady
Langriville was not a small woman, but she was thin, and so frail
she was dwarfed by the enormous upholstered armchair before the
fire in her private parlour, where she habitually remained. She
might be on the shady side of fifty, Florence guessed, but she
looked a deal older, and not a little sickly.

‘Not if you do
not wish it,’ Flo cut in, ‘though I hope you may come to accept me,
ma’am. I am here to be of use to you, in whatever fashion you
choose.’

From the lady’s
demeanour, it was to be inferred she had no notion of using
Florence in any fashion at all. But she made no further demur, only
keeping her eyes—brown like her son’s—on the new companion in a
look faintly apprehensive. Lady Painscastle took charge, her tone
bracing.

‘You will soon
find endless tasks for her, Avice, I am persuaded. Indeed, I shall
be astonished, upon my next visit, if Miss Petrie has not become
pretty well indispensable to you.’

To Florence,
catching her on a later occasion alone, she was more
forthright.

‘It will up to
you, Miss Petrie, to make the effort. I have already outstayed my
time. Under the circumstances, I felt I had to remain a while
longer, but here we are in March already and I have engagements in
town I cannot break.’

‘It is kind of
you, ma’am,’ murmured Flo. ‘I am sure her ladyship must be sensible
of it.’

‘I doubt it,’
came the astringent reply, ‘but let that pass. I must warn you,
Miss Petrie, my sister will do nothing but sit there for hours on
end if she is permitted. Really, Langriville has been most remiss.
He ought to have insisted upon her accompanying him at least on
those occasions when he goes to one of the families round
about.’

‘Perhaps he
tried, but Lady Langriville would not go,’ suggested Flo carefully,
ignoring a little voice that questioned why she should trouble to
defend his lordship, especially after his recent thoughtlessness.
It was not well received.

‘You know
nothing of the matter, Miss Petrie. Were you familiar with the
circumstances, you would know just how little we have come to
expect from my nephew. However, that is neither here nor there. For
my part, his bringing you in may well be advantageous. Particularly
at this juncture.’

Florence had no
difficulty in interpreting this cryptic utterance, being a deal
better acquainted with Lord Langriville’s circumstances than his
aunt had any idea of, but she refrained from comment.

‘I will not
scruple to say this to you, Miss Petrie,’ pursued her ladyship,
‘since you are aware of the recent distressing event.’ A
significant look accompanied these words. ‘It is my fervent hope,
with a certain impediment removed, my nephew will begin to look
about him for a suitable—er—prospect to secure the future of the
estate.’

So soon? The
oddest frisson shot through Flo’s veins, but her thoughts drowned
any notion of its significance. His wife was but just dead, despite
their having been long separated. Was he not at least to pay lip
service to convention with a decent interval of mourning? She could
not forbear a resurgence of compassion for the late Lady
Langriville, despite all evidence that she had brought her exile
upon herself.

‘It thus
behoves my sister,’ continued Lady Painscastle, ‘to learn to go
about again. I do not suggest she should be dragged into company
without a little preparation. But as a first step, it might be an
excellent thing if you were to persuade her to walk into the
village on occasion. She does walk—’ as if Florence had disputed
this ‘—but only in the garden, and then only because Gilmerton
makes a point of taking her out.’

‘I shall do as
you think best, ma’am. Have you other advice for me, or should I
look to his lordship for any further instruction?’

Lady
Painscastle did not appear to be susceptible to irony. She tossed a
scornful head. ‘You will get nothing out of Langriville. He is
almost as bad as Avice, if the truth be told, buried in his books
day after day. No, it will be up to you to think of ways in which
to draw my poor sister out. I believe you are a capable female, and
I am satisfied of your integrity. I was too astonished at the turn
of events to have said so at the time, but you showed dignity and
honour, Miss Petrie, in taking the step you did. I can think of
others, far better placed than yourself, who would have thought
nothing of appropriating that ruby. I am sure Langriville must be
as sensible of it as I.’

Staggered by
this encomium, Flo had nothing to do but thank her. She could but
hope her ladyship had no opportunity to discover her whole
character—especially as outlined by Lord Langriville. And she was
convinced Lady Painscastle must view her conduct in the Little
Parlour with the strongest disapprobation.

But the
exchange had a salutary effect, for it made her realise the work
ahead was fraught with problems. Dismissing his lordship’s
iniquities from her mind, she determined to concentrate upon her
new duties.

After the
departure of the dowager’s sister, at first she did little to
enforce change, making a study of Lady Langriville’s habits and
preferences, and observing her while she pretended disinterest,
remaining quietly in her presence and speaking only when necessary.
This treatment served, she noted, to lessen the elder lady’s
agitation at having a companion thrust upon her.

Within a couple
of days, she was able to suggest they walked together when
Gilmerton came, as she did every day, to take Lady Langriville
out.

‘For I am
persuaded Miss Gilmerton is busy, and perhaps you would not object
to take my arm, ma’am.’

The dowager
made no verbal objection, though she looked doubtful. But the
abigail adding her persuasions, the new arrangement was allowed.
The expedition, however, to Flo’s dismay, led to the unplanned
incursion into it of her young sister.

March was a
week old, but in the walled garden in which her ladyship walked,
there was little wind to counteract the efforts of a wintry sun and
it felt reasonably warm. Lady Langriville was well wrapped up
besides, and she allowed herself to be drawn down one of the paths
meandering between high hedging.

Florence
attempted spasms of conversation, commenting upon some early blooms
and the buds promising new leaf on a row of young beech visible
ahead. The dowager allowed her attention to be thus directed, but
she made no contribution of her own.

But at a
pattering coming from the other side of the hedge, she stopped of
her own accord, looking about as if to see from whence it came. It
was followed by the sound of speeding footsteps and a high-pitched
squeaking protest in a voice Flo knew all too well.

‘Come back,
silly thing! I won’t hurt you.’

There followed
an exchange of cooing entreaty with a hissing and spitting from the
animal Belinda was evidently chasing. Lady Langriville was
transfixed, staring at the hedge. Florence was just making up her
mind to say something when there was a flurry of confused noise and
a yowl of dismay, which might have emanated from either party. Then
an orange cat erupted out of a gap in the hedge right in the path
of the walkers, followed by Belinda’s head and shoulders as she
fell through behind it, her arms outstretched in a posture of
capture.

Flo groaned
aloud. The cat fled down the alley ahead and was soon lost to
sight. And the Dowager Lady Langriville, who had been stock-still
and staring in her usual bemused fashion, gave way to a surprising
crack of mirth.

In the act of
pulling herself up, Belinda froze, turning up her face to blink
open-mouthed at the lady of the house, which provoked another
laugh. Florence saw her sister redden, and thrust down on rising
annoyance. She had best take a hand.

‘This is my
sister, ma’am.’ And to the culprit. ‘Bel, do get up.’

‘I’m trying
to,’ came indignantly from Belinda, as she attempted to crawl
through the hedge.

‘Are you
stuck?’

‘Yes!’

The dowager
found this hilarious, letting forth a series of snorting laughs and
catching her breath in a manner that made Flo fear for her health.
But her sister’s predicament as she struggled to free herself
demanded more immediate assistance.

‘Had you not
better go back instead of trying to come forward?’ she suggested as
she moved to help.

‘No,’ said
Belinda, flailing as she tugged at her lower half. ‘If you will
just hold aside the branches a bit, I can get myself out.’

Flo did as she
was asked, and with a little work, her sister’s large frame finally
came free. She was panting and red-faced with effort as she picked
herself up and dusted off her woollen gown. Florence came to her
aid, and by the time Bel was rendered more or less respectable once
more, the dowager’s unseemly amusement was at an end. But she was
still smiling.

‘You’d best go
in and brush your hair, Bel,’ Flo instructed, picking off twigs
from her sister’s scattered curls. ‘Only let me first present you
to Lady Langriville. Ma’am, this is Belinda.’

‘Belinda?’

‘Yes, my
sister, Belinda Petrie.’ And to Bel. ‘Make your curtsy.’

Bel bobbed
awkwardly, looking conscious, and not a little resentful, Florence
noted. She was about to dismiss the child when Lady Langriville
intervened.

‘She is not
very old.’

‘I’m fifteen,’
stated Bel importantly.

‘Oh dear, are
you?’ Her eyes strayed to Florence. ‘I don’t understand.’

Flo groaned
inwardly. Almost she regretted granting Belinda permission to
wander in the grounds. Only it would have been too hard on her to
expect her to remain confined in her room. Flo made a point of
sharing meals with her sister, seated at the schoolroom table. An
acceptable arrangement, for Lady Langriville had not requested her
company. She had therefore not expected to be obliged to explain
Bel’s presence.

‘It was Lord
Langriville’s notion I should come too,’ Belinda said, forestalling
anything Florence might have offered. ‘I think he meant to reward
Flo, but he couldn’t very well do that without including me. After
all, I was there when she found the ruby, and—’

‘That will do,’
interrupted Florence. She turned to her reluctant employer. ‘The
case is, ma’am, that his lordship kindly invited my sister to
partake of my good fortune. I did not mean for her to trouble you,
however, and—’

‘But she does
not trouble me,’ said Lady Langriville unexpectedly. ‘How should
she, when she is just fifteen?’

Flo could make
nothing of this. ‘What I meant, ma’am—’

‘She means I
shouldn’t have chased the cat and fallen through the hedge right at
your feet, I expect.’

‘Bel, will you
mind your manners?’ begged Florence, exasperated.

‘Bel?’ repeated
the Dowager. ‘Is that what they call you? How pretty!’

‘Yes, isn’t
it?’ said Belinda with enthusiasm. ‘But I’m not a belle at all,
more’s the pity. I’m too big, and I’ve got this silly nose, and my
hair is a horrid sort of light brown.’

Seeing a trifle
of bewilderment showing in Lady Langriville’s thin features, Flo
cut in low-voiced.

‘Belinda, will
you please hold your tongue?’

‘Oh no, pray
don’t make her,’ said her ladyship, putting out a hand. ‘I like it.
No one talks to me of frivolous things any more.’

Flo felt all
the poignancy of this innocent remark. And perhaps it was true.
Everyone in the household trod on eggshells around the dowager.
Lady Painscastle addressed her only with instruction or cajolery.
As for her son, by his own admission he was too wrapped up within
himself to be capable of recognising just what was needed.

The look of
triumph in Bel’s blue eyes was infuriating, but Florence would not
gainsay anything that served to support her ladyship’s spirits. It
occurred to her it was likely the first time Lady Langriville had
been amused by anything in a long while. Hesitating, she wondered
whether to suggest Belinda could be allowed to join them on their
walk. But she was not prepared for the dowager’s further
remark.

‘I should like
Belinda to be my companion.’

A rush of
dismay crowded Flo’s chest. She noted, with faint relief, that
astonishment kept her sister silent for the moment. Her words came
without thought, born of distress.

‘That is not
possible, Lady Langriville. I am sorry if you cannot take to having
me with you, but I cannot give place to Belinda. It would not be
right. She is far too young to be taking on such
responsibility.’

Her ladyship’s
countenance sagged, her eyes showing disappointment. Labouring
under the natural feelings attendant upon being rejected, Florence
could not think what to say to mitigate the blow. Then Bel spoke
up.

‘I can’t take
Flo’s place, ma’am. I shouldn’t know how. But I can come and talk
to you sometimes, if you should like it.’

Lady
Langriville brightened. ‘Oh yes, I should like it of all
things.’

BOOK: Undesirable Liaison
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