First Season Read online

  “I am certain that your rank will protect you from any talk, Lord Satre,” Hetty replied, flushing at his indirect reference to her social errors and sobriquet. “And you must allow that I had no intention of wrongdoing, either, and I am certain you would not wish to hold me to an implied betrothal I do not wish.”

  “Certainly not,” Lord Satre answered with a smile that convinced Hetty he meant the opposite of his words. “I simply ask that in order to minimize any gossip about either of us that you do nothing. That is all. You need not confirm or deny the existence of an understanding between us. You will continue to be seen in my company, but nothing will be announced officially. At the end of the Season, if nothing has been announced, Society will assume any understanding between us died a natural death. That way both our reputations will be saved. I shall speak to your aunt and tell her of our decision when we return.”

  Hetty did not like the idea, but felt it would be unreasonable of her to refuse even though she did not believe his claims of fearing gossip. Naïve and country-bred she might be, but she knew that a gentleman with Lord Satre’s wealth and connections was essentially immune to Society’s disapprobation.

  “Providing you understand my feelings,” Hetty agreed grudgingly.

  “Thank you, my dear. Perhaps you might even change your mind.” His gray eyes looked intently into her blue ones, and although repulsed, Hetty felt unable to look away. Lord Satre’s eyes seemed to glow and grow larger and larger, and suddenly she felt his lips clamp over hers. His action broke the spell, and Hetty pulled away in revulsion.

  “Lord Satre, I must ask you not to touch me again,” she said indignantly, but not without a little fear as well. She looked around for the groom, thinking his presence would be some protection, but he stood a few yards away, his back to the vehicle.

  “I am sorry, my dear, but your beauty overcame me,” Lord Satre said with a look that made Hetty shiver. A gleam in his eyes told Hetty Lord Satre had seen her fear and relished it. She contemplated jumping from the chaise and running back to more populated areas of the park, when Lord Satre called the groom back and picked up the reins. As the groom jumped into his seat and the vehicle moved on, Lord Satre’s lips curled into a smile that made Hetty think he had known exactly what she had contemplated and found it amusing.

  As soon as she arrived home, Hetty ran directly to her room and hurried to the washstand. She wetted the facecloth and rubbed her lips vigorously, trying to remove the memory of Lord Satre’s lips on hers. Then she flung herself onto her bed and cried bitterly in disappointment that her first kiss should have been from the disgusting old Lord Satre.

  That evening Hetty pleaded a headache to avoid going out with her aunt and cousin. She wished to think over her predicament and decide what to do, but first she had to get rid of her maid. Daisy, believing that her mistress was ill, kept close to her side, plying her with lavender water and tisanes. At last Hetty was able to convince her maid that she needed only to rest alone awhile, and Daisy agreed to wait below in the kitchen until Hetty should ring.

  Alone at last, Hetty sat back in her pretty bed and pulled the pink coverlet up over her knees, resting her chin on her hands and trying to think her situation through. Although Lord Satre was not going to press for an official announcement yet, Hetty feared that under pressure from her aunt she might somehow be tricked into an official betrothal. How alone she was, she thought, and then remembered Lady Emily. Of course! She could confide her predicament to Lady Emily, who, with her knowledge and experience of Society, could surely advise her. Wishing to act upon her idea as quickly as possible, Hetty rang for Daisy and the bewildered maid helped her suddenly-cheerful mistress into one of her new walking dresses.

  Lady Hardwick did not object to Hetty paying a call on Lady Emily that afternoon, although she did instruct a footman to accompany her.

  Hetty found Lady Emily at home, receiving callers with her mother. Seeing that there were no other callers, Hetty asked Lady Emily if they might speak privately.

  “Will you excuse us for a few minutes, Mama?” Lady Emily asked her mother. “I wish to show Miss Biddle one of my new gowns that is done in a style I think would flatter her.”

  “I do in truth have a new gown I wished to show you,” Lady Emily said as she led Hetty to her chamber. “Please allow me to show it to you first, and then you must tell me what is making you look so downcast.”

  After admiring her friend’s new gown and agreeing that the style would flatter her, Hetty poured out her story to Lady Emily’s sympathetic ears.

  “Your aunt cannot force you to marry Lord Satre, Miss Biddle,” Emily reassured her young friend at the end of her tale. “If the situation makes you uncomfortable, why do you not write to your mother and father and explain the whole to them?”

  “At first I did not tell my mother and father of my problems here because I did not wish to worry them,” Hetty explained. “Then when I did attempt to tell them something of what was happening, they replied that I should obey my aunt. I fear my aunt’s letters to them have given them a misapprehension of the situation, and I am afraid to tell them of Lord Satre lest they urge me to accept his suit,” Hetty finished unhappily.

  “I cannot think, from what you have told me of your family, that your parents would do any such thing,” Lady Emily replied, “but I do understand your concerns about Lord Satre. I do not care for him either. Let me think upon your problem, and I shall talk to you again soon. Meanwhile, try not to fret yourself about it excessively.”

  “I shall try not to,” Hetty replied with a wan smile as she made ready to take her leave.

  “Might I ask you a question, Lady Emily?” she asked, pausing at the doorway.

  “Certainly, Miss Biddle.”

  “Forgive me, but you do not appear to have any suitors and yet you do not appear to mind.”

  Lady Emily laughed. “I did have a suitor. He was a naval officer who was killed in battle. There have been other gentleman who have shown an interest in me since then, but somehow they seem too shallow.”

  “I am sorry, Lady Emily,” Hetty said, abashed. “I did not intend to bring up a memory that distresses you.”

  “It does not distress me to remember my betrothed, despite his passing,” Lady Emily assured her visitor. “I remember him with happiness and would not tarnish his memory by accepting a man of lesser character. Should I ever meet another gentleman of his quality I might marry yet, were he to be willing to accept one as firmly on the shelf as I am coming to be,” she finished with a laugh.

  “You are far too great a Beauty to ever be on the shelf,” Hetty protested.

  “That is not what Mama tells me,” her friend replied with a smile.

  “Do not fret about your problems, Miss Biddle,” Lady Emily added. “Remember that Lady Hardwick cannot force you to marry against your will and please consider confiding your concerns to Squire and Mrs. Biddle. I am certain they wish their daughter to be happy.”

  Lady Emily watched her visitor walk back toward Adam Street from her chamber window, fearing her words of counsel had not greatly eased her young friend’s concerns. She was still of the mind that Miss Biddle should confide the whole to her parents, but if she would not, no one could do it for her. That would constitute unwarranted interference in the Biddles’s affairs. Yet there must be something more she could do to help the young woman. Perhaps she would ask her brother’s advice again. This new development with Lord Satre might inspire him to think of a way to assist Miss Biddle.

  Jules returned home from his ride not long after Hetty had left, and Emily called to him from the doorway of her dressing room.

  “Jules, could I have a moment of your time?”

  “Of course, Emily, what did you want?” Jules asked, entering the room and taking a seat in a comfortable armchair. Emily seated herself nearby and repeated Miss Biddle’s story.

  “I tried to reassure her that her aunt cannot force her to marry Lord Satre,” Emily finished, “but I
dislike seeing Miss Biddle so distressed. I should not be surprised if her aunt had a hand in the three dances with Lord Satre. It is not something that would occur unintentionally.”

  “I suppose it is possible Lady Hardwick had something to do with it, “ Jules agreed. “From what I have seen of her behavior toward her niece, she does not appear to have any kind feelings toward Miss Biddle.”

  “I worry, too, that Miss Biddle may become so upset she seeks help from Lord Courtney,” Lady Emily added, “and that would not do.”

  “Because if Courtney knows of the pressure on her to accept Lord Satre, it may drive him to do something drastic so he does not lose Miss Biddle’s fortune,” Jules finished. “Yes, I see it is quite a coil.”

  “I fear there is little we can do, Emily, much though you may wish to help Miss Biddle,” Jules said at length. “We have no legitimate reason to meddle in her affairs or those of her family. But I shall keep my eyes open and try to defuse any gossip I hear about Miss Biddle and Lord Satre, and you can do the same,” he said, rising to leave.

  Lady Emily remained seated, mulling the situation over. She knew her brother was correct that they had no right to interfere, yet she wished with all her heart there was a way she could give her young friend more direct aid.

  Sophie watched the development of Lord Satre’s interest in Hetty with mixed feelings. On one hand, it pleased her that her cousin was being pressured to accept the suit of someone she did not care for. On the other, Sophie did not actually want Hetty to marry Lord Satre, for then Hetty would outrank her since Lord Satre was a marquess. Lord Lockwood was only an earl.

  Lord Courtney was another matter, however. Not only would Hetty, as the wife of a viscount, be outranked by Sophie, as the wife of an earl, but Lord Courtney would quickly go through Hetty’s money and she would soon lose her fortune. Yes, of the two possible matches, it would be best for Hetty to marry Lord Courtney. But how to promote that desirable outcome? Sophie decided to see if she could gain her cousin’s confidence and perhaps a way would become clear.

  Accordingly, Sophie sought out her cousin in the library, where Hetty spent much of her free time. She found Hetty reclining in the window seat, absorbed in a book.

  “Hetty, I have been searching for you everywhere and then remembered how you like to read. You must allow me to lend you a new volume by Mrs. Radcliffe I purchased. It is most thrilling,” Sophie finished as she sat down next to her cousin, who looked at her with a wary expression. Sophie saw the wariness and instinctively knew how to overcome it. She slipped from her seat next to Hetty and knelt at her cousin’s feet, taking her cousin’s hands in hers.

  “Cousin Hetty,” she said, “I know that I have not always been kind to you since you arrived in London.” She looked down as though in embarrassment. “I must confess to you that I was jealous. I know it was foolish, but I feared that your fortune might lure away some of my suitors. Now that I am betrothed to Lord Lockwood, I know my fears were groundless, and I feel quite overset about any unhappiness I may have caused you. Please forgive me and let us cry friends,” Sophie finished, looking up and willing a tear to trickle from her pale blue eyes.

  “Of course I forgive you,” Hetty replied warmly, pulling her cousin up and embracing her. “Although how someone as beautiful as you could have thought I would steal your suitors I cannot imagine.”

  As Sophie had hoped, her “confession” opened the way for them to share confidences, and before long Sophie had wheedled out the whole story of Hetty’s secret betrothal to Lord Courtney. She listened with a sympathetic expression on her face, trying to think how she might ensure Hetty would marry Lord Courtney. A plea for advice opened the way.

  “I think, Cousin Hetty, that under the circumstances, the only possible recourse open to you is an elopement.”

  “Elopement?” Hetty echoed in a shocked voice. “I could not do that. Lady Emily Wakeford urged me to write my parents and tell them the whole, and I have been thinking perhaps I should do that. I feel certain that when my mother and father know all, they will not press me to accept Lord Satre.”

  “I am certain that is correct. But will your parents allow you to marry Lord Courtney? My mother will tell them he is a gazetted fortune hunter and to forbid it,” Sophie said shrewdly. “Who will your mother and father listen to, you or Mama?”

  “I had not thought of that,” Hetty replied. “But—an elopement! It is so ramshackle. I wish to have a proper betrothal—the banns read at church, a special gown made, my trousseau purchased, vows taken before my family and friends,” Hetty finished wistfully.

  “Perhaps it would be best if you were to discuss it with Lord Courtney,” Sophie suggested, seeing Hetty’s reluctance. “I know Mama will not allow you to see him here, but I can have a note carried to him and help you arrange a meeting without her knowledge,” Sophie offered, shrewd enough to know that Lord Courtney would be likely to endorse her plan of an elopement. He would know, as she did, that were Hetty’s parents to have time to investigate Lord Courtney’s background, they would flatly refuse to consider his suit.

  “Would you?” Hetty asked, brightening at the thought of seeing Lord Courtney.

  “I shall send the note directly you write it,” Sophie promised. “Come, let us not lose a moment’s time.”

  Chapter Nine

  It was a simple matter for Sophie to arrange a meeting with Lord Courtney. Sophie’s maid, Polly, was of a romantic disposition, and more than willing to secretly deliver notes to a handsome gentleman. The meeting was set for the circulating library the following day, since Lady Hardwick had no taste for reading and never accompanied her daughter there.

  When Hetty and Sophie arrived at the library at the appointed time, they found Lord Courtney had already arrived. Sophie borrowed one book, and the three left the library together, walking slowly around Berkeley Square, Polly following at a distance. Hetty explained to Lord Courtney that she had confided their betrothal to Sophie, but was reluctant to broach Sophie’s idea of an elopement. Sophie was not so reticent.

  “I explained to Cousin Hetty that an elopement is the only answer to your predicament,” Sophie said, turning to face Lord Courtney and observe his reaction to her suggestion. Lord Courtney caught her gaze, and a look of understanding and complicity passed between them.

  “I told Cousin Sophie that I felt an elopement was too drastic a measure, and that I should confide the whole to my mother and father,” Hetty interposed, hoping that Lord Courtney would agree with her.

  Lord Courtney frowned and appeared to think the situation over. “I cannot like the necessity of such a course, but I fear your cousin is correct,” he said at last. “Your parents no doubt still consider you a child and will tell you to do as your aunt advises. We must present them with a fait accompli.”

  Hetty still did not like the idea, but coming from Lord Courtney, it did not seem quite as reprehensible as it had coming from Sophie. Despite her cousin’s apparent contrition, Hetty still did not entirely trust Sophie. “Think of the scandal when people find out,” she protested weakly. “And it would distress my parents not to attend my marriage ceremony.”

  “The scandal will not last,” Lord Courtney reassured her. “And what do we care for Society’s opinion? It is true your parents will be upset at not being present for your marriage, but we shall purchase an estate in the country and settle near them and they shall soon forgive us our precipitate marriage. Is that not true, Hetty?”

  Hetty blushed at his use of her diminutive. She looked at the viscount, splendid in his form-fitting buckskins and morning coat, so different from the polished but threatening elegance of Lord Satre. The thought of living in the country with him was very appealing. Yet something held her back from agreeing.

  Their walk had brought them nearing Upper St. James’s Park, and Lord Courtney turned to Sophie. “Would you allow me to speak with your cousin privately one moment, Miss Hardwick?” he asked.

  Sophie agreed, and dropped back wit
h Polly while Lord Courtney led Hetty into the park to a secluded spot by some bushes. There he stopped and took her hands in his.

  “I know you cannot like the necessity of an elopement,” he said, “but I feel it is the only way if you do indeed wish to become my wife. You do wish that, Hetty?” Lord Courtney asked gently as he looked intently into her eyes.

  Hetty felt herself weakening. Lord Courtney pressed her hands in his and drew her forward, placing his lips over hers. Hetty melted. This was more what she had thought a kiss would be. His lips were warm and firm, and their touch made her feel lightheaded. She responded tentatively to his kiss, and then, remembering where they were, pulled bacl lest they be seen.

  “We are betrothed,” Lord Courtney reminded Hetty as he lightly caressed her face.

  “If you think an elopement is the only way,” Hetty finally capitulated, Lord Courtney’s tenderness and care winning her agreement.

  “I do,” Lord Courtney replied firmly. He placed one more light kiss upon Hetty’s lips and led her back to find Sophie, who was waiting impatiently for their return.

  “We haven’t much time,” Sophie cautioned. “We must work out the details. I think it would be best to make your departure from Vauxhall. I shall get up a party. Mama does not like Vauxhall, and if I choose the guests carefully, she will not find it necessary to accompany us. I shall arrange to have a note delivered to Hetty in our box at Vauxhall, asking her to join some other friends in another box, and you shall have a carriage waiting at the entrance.”

  “An excellent idea, Miss Hardwick,” Lord Courtney said with a look of admiration. “It is evident you have devoted much thought to helping us. Notify me as soon as you have determined the most opportune date, and I shall make my arrangements.

  “Until then,” Lord Courtney said to Hetty, and with a bow and last tender look, he left.