Lady Ellingham and the Theft of the Stansfield Necklace: A Regency Romance (4 page)

  ‘Mama you know
perfectly well that Emily has not been able to obtain vouchers for Almack’s so
she will not be there.’

      The Countess
waved her hand in the air. ‘Well Felicity, if you must go traipsing off to Hans
Town so be it, but you know what Richard thinks of that connection and I cannot
say that I like it much myself.’

      ‘I know only too
well what Richard thinks,’ Felicity retorted and as far as I care he can go to
the devil.’

      ‘Really!’ the Countess
remonstrated but before she could say anymore, the butler knocked and quietly
poked his head around the drawing room door.

      ‘Your Ladyship,
two gentlemen have arrived and wish to speak to you, they are waiting
downstairs in the reception room.’  The butler stepped forward and presented
the Countess with their calling cards.  Sophia read them and knitted her brow.
‘Henry Caruthers and Charles Frobisher?  I cannot say I have heard of these
gentlemen.  Did they say what they wanted?’

      ‘They asked to speak
to the young master but when I told them his Lordship was not home they asked
for his parent instead.’

      ‘Very well Wilson,’
the Countess replied with her usual good nature. ‘Send them up.’

      Felicity
listening to this exchange stiffened.  The names Charles and Henry could only
mean one thing.  They were the two gentlemen who had come to her rescue last
night.  Felicity looked towards the door.  It was too late to make a quick
retreat so she would just have to make the most of it and hope that they would
not recognise her in her skirts.

      Charles and Henry
entered the room and the Countess rose to greet them. ‘Good day gentlemen I am
sorry the Earl is not here to meet you, he left for Tattersall’s an hour ago,  but
I am his mother Lady Sophia Ellingham, perhaps I can help you,’  She gestured
towards Felicity. ‘This is my daughter Lady Felicity Ellingham, and the Earls
sister.’

      Henry and Charles
nodded to Felicity in acknowledgement but showed no sign of having recognised
her. Felicity relaxed, that had been a close shave.   The Countess regained
their attention and invited them to take a seat. ‘What can I do for you gentlemen?’

      Charles appeared
to be the spokesman. ‘We have called to enquire after the young gentleman to
see how he is after his unfortunate encounter with the footpad last night, we
were most concerned, he seemed to be in quite a state of shock. Glad we were on
hand to assist.’

      The Countess was
rather surprised.  ‘I do not understand,’ she replied. ‘I had breakfast with
Richard this morning and he mentioned nothing of footpads. I think he would
have said something.’  The Countess turned to Felicity.  ‘Did Richard say
anything to you about it?’

      Felicity sat
demurely with her hand in her lap and feeling rather guilty but could
truthfully reply. ‘No mama, I have not seen Richard this morning.’

      Charles was not
to be deterred. ‘Ah Richard, is that the Cawker’s name? That is the way with
young men these days; don’t wish to alarm their mamas.’

      Henry moved
uncomfortably in his chair and spoke up. ‘I say Charles, are you sure that you
have the right house, after all it was dark and you had downed a tipple or two.’

      Charles looked
reproachfully at Henry for referring to his inebriated state but replied
pleasantly enough. ‘Well I could be wrong but I could have sworn that the young
sprig ran into this house.’

      The Countess
raised her eyebrows.  She was rather puzzled at the gentlemen’s choice of
expression for she could hardly imagine her staid son running anywhere in such
a hurry and as for calling him a sprig and a cawker; his broad imposing countenance
hardly fit the description.  Moreover, she had difficulty imagining that Richard
would have much trouble seeing off a lone footpad, let alone him needing any
assistance from this strangely matched but kindly pair.  She gave an indulgent
smile. ‘I thank you gentlemen for your kindly offices but I am afraid you must
be mistaken, Richard would surely have said something.’

      Charles looked
perplexed. ‘Is your son slim, of medium height with blonde hair?’

      ‘He has blonde
hair certainly,’ the Countess replied. ‘But he is quite broad and over 6 foot 2
inches.’

      Henry patted is
friend on the back.  ‘That settles it then Charles; we obviously have the wrong
house.  We are sorry to have troubled you your Ladyship, we shall take up no
more of your valuable time.’

      The Countess
smiled. ‘No need to apologise gentlemen, can I offer you a drink before you
leave, perhaps a cup of tea.’ Henry having his mind on something a bit stronger
than tea declined and stood up to leave.  Felicity remembering their propensity
for brandy interrupted. ‘Perhaps Mr Caruthers and Mr Frobisher would prefer a
brandy.  Accept it as our way of thanking you for your neighbourly concern.’ Henry
sat down again, ‘Well if you put it that way Miss, how could we refuse?’

      Felicity smiled
to herself and went to the occasional table. She poured them both a brandy and although
it was still early, poured a ratafia for both her mother and herself.

      The Countess was
quite happy to oblige and then she bethought herself of something.  ‘There is a
young man two doors down of the description you have given us, young James
Eggleston.’  She turned to her daughter.  ‘Do you think Felicity, that it could
be young James they are seeking?’

      Felicity almost
chocked on her ratafia.  The last thing she wanted was to get young James Eggleston
into trouble over something that was entirely her doing. ‘But mama, he is only
16 what would he be doing out late at night on his own. His mother would have
an apoplexy.’

      The Countess
agreed. ‘Yes and if it was young James he deserves a flogging. ’

      Felicity looked
imploringly at the two gentlemen.  ‘Pray gentlemen do not get poor James into trouble.
His mother would ground him and deprive him of his allowance for a week at the
very least.  It would just be too bad for he has already been sent down from University
for a month for getting up to mischief.’

      Charles looked at
Henry. ‘Well I am sure the young whipper snapper will be just fine and far being
it, for us to be instrumental in clipping his wings any more. Besides I think
he would have well learned his lesson last night.’

      Charles and Henry
finished their brandy and took their leave, having agreed to leave young James
with his secret. Felicity closed the door behind them and leaned against it
with a huge sigh.  Thank goodness for that, she would have never forgiven
herself if James landed in a whole lot of hot water on her account.

      Henry and George,
their insides warmed through with brandy, walked arm in arm down the street. Henry
turned to Charles. ‘Never mind old chap.  I am sure that young sprig is all right. 
Now what did you think of the young Miss Felicity? Diamond of first water eh
Charles. You know I am not so sure that I have not seen her somewhere before.’

Charles turned and
grinned at his friend. ‘Probably have old chap, at one of the assembly rooms or
some such place.  A beauty though I must say, ah Henry if only we were 30 years
younger.’

      Lady Sophia
Ellingham returned from her trip to Madam Fournier with her mission
accomplished, which was more than could be said of Felicity’s wasted
afternoon.  She had taken the carriage to Hans Town to pay Emily a morning
visit only to find that she was not at home.  Felicity was most perplexed; she
had not been able to get an answer at the door.  She knew that Emily’s uncle
did not employ a butler but surely, a maid should have answered.   Felicity
came away disappointed, she would have to wait to return Emily’s necklace but
it irked her to have such a valuable piece in her possession for any longer
than was necessary.   Felicity resolved to try again tomorrow and if she could
not find her at home then she would surely meet her at the assembly rooms one evening.

      That evening
Felicity sat down to an early dinner with Richard and her mother as they were
all due to attend Almack’s later.  Felicity was tired, probably from her
adventures of the night before, and expressed the desire of staying at home.
The Countess, who was attacking a breast of chicken in chasseur sauce looked up
from her plate and said disapprovingly. ‘Felicity I have not gone to the effort
of procuring vouchers for the season and lashing out ten guineas in the 
process, just for you not to attend.  You know it is the place to be seen if
you wish to meet someone.  Do you not want to see yourself suitably established?’

      Felicity raised
her eyebrows and sighed, it was not as if she did not want to find an eligible
husband but she thought by now, that she must have met most men on this year’s
circuit and she had not met anyone with whom she could imagine sharing the rest
of her life.

      Lady Ellingham
could almost read what she was thinking and admonished. ‘You know Felicity you
are far too particular and you are not going to meet anyone if you continually
go about like a hoyden and presenting yourself as a blue stocking.’

      Felicity raised
her eyebrows and grimaced. ‘Alright mother I will attend.’  Anything to
distract her mother from the endless subject of marriage, so at 8pm promptly Felicity
and her mother, gracing the arm of Richard, found themselves in the threshold
of Almack’s assembly rooms in King Street. It was not particularly the place
Richard wanted to find himself either, but as his mother constantly reminded
him, it would not hurt him to be looking for a wife himself; after all he had
the obligation to provide the Earldom with an heir.  Richard however, unlike
his sister did not complain, for he knew it was his duty to provide his
ungrateful and obstinate twin with an escort.

      Descending from
the carriage, Felicity had overcome her feeling of tiredness and looked radiant
at the prospect of an evening of dancing.  She loved to dance, it was one of
the only reasons she could tolerate the London season with equanimity.  She
wore a beautiful violet blue gown of crepe with a low square neckline and
puffed sleeves.  It was trimmed with silver rosettes and the skirts fell in
rich flounces to her feet.  To finish the ensemble she wore a pair of silver grey
lace gloves that reached to her elbow. The colour of her dress was particularly
complimentary as it brought out the colour of Felicity’s deep violet blue eyes,
by far one of her best features.

      On entering the
Assembly rooms, the first person Felicity saw was Lord Alex Sheraton.  She had
never seen the Marquis at Almack’s before.  The last time she had seen him, she
was dangling from the painful grip of his powerful hands and staring into his
very angry black eyes.  She knew she must see him again at some point but not
quite so soon and all of a sudden, she felt very vulnerable and exposed.  Goodness,
what if he recognised her!  She tried to convince herself that her apprehension
was needless.  After all, at the time she was wearing a huge black silk scarf
wrapped tightly around her face, so it was not possible that he could have
identified her. So why did she feel so very vulnerable as if she was the only
person in the room.

       Felicity quickly
raised her fan to her face, bent her head towards Richard and whispered.
‘Goodness Richard, Thorndale is over there.  I have never seen him at Almack’s
before, what do you think he is doing here?’

      Richard shrugged.
‘I don’t know. Very much the same as everyone else I suppose.  Maybe at long last
he is hanging out for a wife, so remember my warning Felicity.’

      Felicity nodded,
Richard could rest peacefully she thought acerbically.  For reasons of her own,
she certainly did not want to court the attention of Lord Alexander Sheraton. Exposure
would be deadly.

      Felicity mingled
and it was not long before she found herself surrounded by suitors, each
wanting to claim her hand for a country-dance.  She soon forgot the discomfort
of having seen Thorndale, besides which he had disappeared into the crowds.  Felicity
was able to leave her qualms behind her and became carried away in the mood of
the evening.

      Felicity could
not have realised how wrong she was, when earlier in the week, she had voiced
the opinion that Lord Sheraton had never looked in her direction. Thorndale had
indeed noticed her for who could not.  It was only because the Marquis had until
recently, been entangled with the complication of Emily that he had decided not
to approach the beauty.  Circumstances had changed however and Thorndale had resolved
to remedy the matter, so his presence at Almack’s was no coincidence.

      Felicity was
thirsty.  She had just danced a lively polka with an agreeable young man who
had dutifully returned her to her mother. The Countess was sitting at the
perimeter of the ballroom chatting with her friends Mr and Mrs Haswell, so Felicity
decided to go in search of some lemonade without a chaperone.

      She was just
making her way to the refreshment room when she felt a large presence at her
shoulder.  She turned around to find herself staring at the silver grey satin waistcoat
of a large imposing man.  She looked up and froze with dismay as she saw the handsome
face of Lord Alex Sheraton smiling down at her. Not caring at all for the whims
of society, he did not find it necessary to seek an introduction; at the very least,
she would have expected one of Almack’s patronesses to introduce him.

       Disposing with etiquette,
he spoke. ‘Lady Ellingham, may I have the pleasure of the next dance.’ A tremor
went through her and she could not decide whether it was fear or desire.  Emily
was right, the man was certainly handsome. She had never seen him so close up
and his near proximity sent an unfamiliar shiver up her spine.  His dark brown hair,
which looked almost black in the light of the candles, was skilfully styled in
the Brutus and he wore his sideburns long, which lent him a rather rakish look.
His black coat was immaculate and fitted his broad shoulders to perfection and
the absence of pins fobs and seals only added to his countenance.  His only
adornment was a diamond pin in his lily-white cravat, which was arranged in the
intricate waterfall.  He was obviously older than her, perhaps 28 or 29 and the
extra years gave him a decided air of maturity.

       When she did not
answer, he raised his dark brows in enquiry. She stood mesmerized; he was obviously
waiting for a reply and she stood there looking like a startled rabbit.  At
close quarters, the man took her breath away but she managed to gather her
wits. She must remember that this man was dangerous; moreover, his conduct with
Emily was irreprehensible and placed him beyond reproach.  Felicity snapped to
her senses and recalled her brothers’ advice.

      ‘I am sorry Lord Thorndale
but my dance card is full.’  Felicity watched him as he weighed up her reply.  It
was almost the truth but she was sure he did not believe her. He gave her a
most perceptive smile. ‘Ah so you know who I am do you? But doing it much to
brown my dear, I am not so easily gulled.’

      Felicity was
astonished that the man had dared to contradict her. It was certainly not the behaviour
she should expect from a gentleman but there again Thorndale was no ordinary
man.  According to her brother, he was not overly concerned about the opinions
of others and if he wanted something, he would do what was needed to acquire
it.   Well he was wasting his time with her she thought to herself as she
gathered her wits.

      ‘Do you dare to
call me a liar sir?  I am affronted.’

      Thorndale just
laughed. ‘Oh it is a ladies prerogative my dear but if you are in so much
demand perhaps you can show me your dance card.’  Thorndale watched as she
tightened her grip on her reticule. ‘I thought so,’ he grinned unabashed. ‘But
I will succeed in my quest madam I always do, a waltz perhaps, if not tonight
then perhaps another.’

      Felicity was torn,
she was annoyed at his arrogance but on the other hand, her treacherous heart
wanted to accept.  She was strangely attracted to him and she was annoyed at
the realization. She wanted to know what it would feel like to be held in his arms,
to feel the heat of his body close to her own, yet at the same time she was
incensed by his impertinence and his self-assurance.  In the end, her impetuous
streak betrayed her. ‘I shall never dance with you sir!  Ever! You are a...’  She
hesitated searching for a tactful word. She could hardly call him a thief and
her sentence hung in mid air.

      ‘A what?’ he
enquired curiously. Her words escaped her and before she knew it, she blurted
out cryptically. ‘A David!’

      Thorndale looked
momentarily perplexed. ‘A David?’  Felicity defiantly raised her head. ‘Do not
pretend to misunderstand me sir.  You know exactly what I mean.’

      As Thorndale came
to an understanding, he frowned. ‘Do you mean King David in the bible, as in
the story of David and Bathsheba?’

      Felicity gave an
affirmative nod. ‘Exactly Sir!’

      ‘As far as I am
aware ma’am I have never taken another man’s wife at least not knowingly and I
do not intend to do so. What do you mean by it?’ he demanded.

      Felicity sniffed.
‘Perhaps not sir but you fail to consider the whole of the account.’

      Thorndale’s humour
was beginning to desert him. ‘Remind me my dear please do.’

      ‘If you read your
scriptures as often as you should you would know.  It is not for me to remind
you,’ she blurted out already regretting her rash words.

      Thorndale’s face
looked dark. ‘Oh I know the account well enough,’ he countered. ‘I am not as
ignorant as you would have me.  The prophet Nathan likened David to a rich
Farmer who owned flocks of sheep.  Yet the farmer took the only sheep of a poor
neighbour to slaughter for a feast, but I fail to understand your application. Are
you calling me a thief madam?’

      Felicity bit her
lip and remained silent.  She had not intended to let the conversation get so
out of hand but her impetuous heart had led her into trouble again and she bit
her lip in self-admonishment.  Her face told him what he wanted to know. ‘I do
not know how you have come by such an erroneous impression of me My Lady but
you are under a serious misapprehension.’

      Felicity turned
to walk away but his hand shot out, grabbed her forcefully by the arm and
detained her.  She felt the strength of his touch, which was not for the first
time and trembled for she knew she had said too much.  ‘Kindly explain yourself
madam,’ he demanded.

      At that moment,
Richard walked toward them.  At most times, Richard was a nuisance but at this moment,
she was thoroughly glad to see him. He stepped up just in time to catch Thorndale’s
last words. ‘Good Lord,’ Richard muttered to himself, what indiscretion had Felicity
committed now.

      Richard looked
critically at Thorndale’s hand still clutching Felicity by the arm and gave Thorndale
a fixed stare. ‘I think you should unhand my sister sir,’ he instructed calmly.
Thorndale dropped her arm and addressed Richard.  ‘I think Sir, that you should
learn manage your women, your sister’s accusations are intolerable.’  Richard
turned to Felicity demanding an explanation but she just stood there silent.

      ‘Very well,’ Thorndale
resumed. ‘Your sister deems to call me a thief.  If she were a man I would call
her out.’

      Richard stepped
in front of his sister.  ‘If my sister calls you a thief, she must have good
reason. I would suggest that if you have any grievance you take it up with me.’

      Thorndale gave
Richard a pregnant stare. ‘Very well, I shall spare you the glove lest we draw
attention to ourselves for people are already beginning to look this way, but I
do demand satisfaction.  Name your friends sir.’

      Felicity’s eyes widened
in disbelief at this unexpected development.  What had she done?  She stepped
forward. ‘No Richard,’ she implored. ‘Do not accept!’

      Although Richard
had automatically defended his sister out of loyalty, he was angry with her and
spoke harshly. ‘Stand back Flick, you have done enough.’ He turned back to Thorndale
who was clearly amused by Felicity’s distress even though it was self-inflicted. 
‘I shall ask Jeremy Leighton to act as my second sir.  You will find his
direction in Mount Street.’ Thorndale acknowledged. ‘I know his direction I
will send my man Giles Kavanagh to wait on him. Choose your place and weapons
sir.’