Stephanie Laurens - Tangled Reins

The sun was shining, and a light breeze blew wispy clouds across the sky. Revelling in the fresh air, she walked through to the other side of the park, paused to glance briefly at the silent mansion opposite, then briskly returned to Merion House. By now Lady Merion would have left her bed. Ascending the stairs, she was surprised to see Ferdie on his way down.

Having received his cousin’s note, Ferdie had decided that if Dorothea was not to be told of the danger then it was high time someone informed her ladyship of the threats to her granddaughter. He had also been able to set Lady Merion’s mind at rest regarding the inevitable gossip arising from the incident in the Park. At the party he had attended the previous night he had found this had incurred little attention, and what comment there was had described it as just a lovers’ quarrel.

As luck would have it, Lady Jersey had witnessed the encounter. She had immediately afterwards attended a select tea party at Mrs Drummond-Burrell’s and, of course, had bubbled over with the news of Miss Darent’s odd behaviour and the Marquis’s likely response.

While there had been more than a few disapproving comments, the tone had been set by Mrs Drummond-Burrell herself. A friend of Hazelmere’s, she had been impressed by Dorothea and heartily approved the Marquis’s choice. In response to a disparaging remark that Miss Darent had properly cooked her goose, as Hazelmere would never stand for such behaviour, that most steely of Almack’s patronesses had coolly observed, ‘Dear Sarah, I really don’t think you fully appreciate Miss Darent. How often have any of us seen Hazelmere so much as thrown off balance?’ The ensuing silence had assured her that she had captured the attention of the room. ‘I cannot help thinking,’ she had continued, ‘that any young lady who can shake that gentleman’s calm deserves our congratulations. If she can make the Marquis realise that he cannot control absolutely everything, I for one will applaud her.’ Thus Dorothea’s actions had come to be regarded as a successful attempt to defy his lordship, with the likely result being no more than a tiff.

Pausing to exchange greetings with Dorothea, Ferdie said, ‘I’ll call for you at three.’

‘Oh, Ferdie, I don’t know that I can.’

‘Not a matter of can or can’t, you must,’ answered that knowledgeable gentleman. Realising that she did not understand, he suggested, ‘Go see your grandmama. She’ll explain.’

And with a nod and a wave he descended to the hall and, accepting his hat from Mellow, quit the house. Dorothea surrendered her pelisse to Trimmer and entered her ladyship’s sanctum.

Lady Merion had already had much to think about that morning. The news that Dorothea had been the subject of two abduction attempts had shocked the old lady. But, considering the steps already taken to protect her, she could not think of anything more that could be done. She had rejected Ferdie’s suggestion that Dorothea be warned, informing him that his cousin was already the cause of enough turmoil in Dorothea’s life, without adding this to the account. Hazelmere’s absence was not comforting. On the other hand, it would give Dorothea time to adjust to his idea of her future.

She had been pleasantly surprised and not a little relieved to hear of the lack of speculation over the scene in the Park. She particularly appreciated Ferdie’s offer to ride with Dorothea in the Park that afternoon. ‘Won’t do for her to hide away, you know,’ that young gentleman had sapiently remarked.

When Dorothea entered the room Lady Merion smiled and waved her to the comfortable chaise. ‘You’re looking a great deal better, my dear.’

‘I feel a great deal better, Grandmama,’ replied Dorothea, dutifully kissing her cheek and then gracefully sitting beside her.

Noting her calm and confident manner, Hermione nodded. ‘I think it’s time we had some plain speaking.’ Having made this promising beginning, she paused to marshal her arguments. ‘To begin with, I expect you’ll admit Hazelmere has seriously engaged your affections?’

Smiling at the careful phrasing, Dorothea responded easily, ‘I’ve been in love with Lord Hazelmere for some time.’

‘As I said, he’s already told me he intends offering for you. In his own good time,’ continued her ladyship. ‘But what I want to know is, how will you reply?’

A gurgle of laughter escaped Dorothea. ‘Oh, Grandmama. Do you really think I’ll have any choice?’

Lady Merion snorted. ‘To be perfectly honest, my dear, I doubt it. Hazelmere is well aware of your feelings. And, from what I saw in the drawing-room yesterday, your verbal agreement is merely a formality.’ She watched her calm and cool granddaughter blush rosily. ‘Mind you,’ she went on, ‘it’s a nuisance, having a husband who knows too much, but you can’t have everything. Still, I don’t think it’s a bad bargain-his father was just the same, and Anthea Henry was the happiest married woman in town.’

To Dorothea, it seemed safest to accept this assurance in silence.

Deciding that there was nothing more she could do to aid Hazelmere, Lady Merion continued briskly, ‘Very well. Now we must decide how you should go on. You must not give the gossips any reason to suppose that anything other than the mildest of disagreements has occurred between you.’

Dorothea’s brows rose in a thoroughly haughty manner.

‘Quite!’ nodded Lady Merion. ‘But you’ll be guided by me and Ferdie in this matter. Ferdie is so useful at times like these; he always knows how things will appear and what one must on no account do. You must continue to appear at all your engagements as usual, and you must appear entirely your normal self.’ Looking at her granddaughter, she remarked acidly, ‘That doesn’t seem to be causing you any great difficulty at the moment.’

Turning huge green eyes upon her grandmother, Dorothea smiled in a serenely confident way, which, under the circumstances, Lady Merion found oddly disconcerting. ‘Grandmama, I promise I’ll behave at all times in a befitting manner. But you really cannot expect me to be the same as I was before the Diplomatic Ball.’

Lady Merion, not entirely sure of its portent, accepted the qualified assurance. ‘One last thing. Ferdie told me Hazelmere has gone out of town until Tuesday, to one of his estates. Not,’ she continued in response to the question in Dorothea’s eyes, ‘because of your quarrel. He’d already told his friends he meant to depart by yesterday evening.’

Digesting this news, Dorothea decided that, all in all, a few days to polish her newly discovered public persona without distraction would not go amiss. Besides, she was beginning to feel that there were a few tricks left to be played in the game between herself and the arrogant Marquis. When he next appeared, she intended to be well prepared.

Ferdie and Dorothea arrived at the Park and joined the groups of ladies and gentlemen milling about, exchanging greetings and the latest on-dits. More than a few eyes were directed Dorothea’s way. Chatting in a relaxed and animated fashion with Lord Peterborough, riding beside her on his bay, she had herself well in hand. To all who were interested, she appeared entirely at ease.

Mrs Drummond-Burrell, sitting haughtily in her barouche, waved to them to attend her. As they drew up she complimented Dorothea on her looks and then embarked on a conversation with all three. At no time did she refer to the most noble Marquis of Hazelmere, nor the incident in the Park. Looking into the cool blue eyes, Dorothea smiled warmly, acknowledging the message.

Released from her side, they next fell victim to Lady Jersey. In stark contrast, she tried by every means possible to extract some comment from Dorothea on Hazelmere and what had happened after they had left the Park. Dorothea’s practice in verbal fencing with his lordship left her well equipped to deal with opponents like Sally Jersey. She successfully turned aside all that lady’s probing questions. As she accomplished this with an amused tolerance, very reminiscent of Hazelmere himself, Lady Jersey was more entertained than enraged by her refusal to be outwitted. Finally escaping her clutches, they rode on.

‘Phew!’ exclaimed Ferdie as soon as they were out of earshot. ‘Never seen Silence so hell-bent on getting an answer!’

While they encountered a number of ladies similarly intent on learning the details of Dorothea’s last meeting with the Marquis, Lady Jersey’s inquisition was by far the most comprehensive, and Dorothea easily handled these less inveterate busybodies.

On returning to Merion House, having parted from Lord Peterborough at the Park gates, Ferdie confessed to being thoroughly satisfied with Dorothea’s performance. Overhearing this remark, addressed to her grandmother, Dorothea’s eyes twinkled. ‘Why, thank you, Ferdie,’ she said meekly.

Not sure how to take this and finding her confidence slightly alarming, Ferdie assured them that he would call at eight to escort them to the evening’s rout, and made his escape.

During the following days Dorothea found Hazelmere’s friends keeping a protective watch over her and was amused by their endeavours to conceal this. Intrigued, she quizzed Ferdie for the reason and finally, in desperation, he retreated behind his absent cousin. ‘Best ask Hazelmere if you want to know about it.’ Correctly understanding this to mean that his lordship had left instructions that she was not to be told, she refrained from pushing Ferdie further. Finding that the words ‘Hazelmere said so’ acted as a talisman, Ferdie used the phrase increasingly. He fervently hoped his cousin would not be out of London longer than anticipated.