Chapter 11

"Isabella, I see you've made an effort tonight, and I am glad of it," Lady Collingwood said, peering at Bella across the dimly lit carriage as they rattled toward yet another dinner party… with yet another string of suitors set for evaluation.

A week had passed since the picnic in the park, and Bella had not seen Simon in all that time. He seemed intent on keeping his distance, and she couldn't help wondering if a certain Lady O'Mara was seeing more of him than she was. Perhaps he saw her in the park and remembered why he was attracted to her all those years ago, she thought. The idea made her feel ill.

"Aunt Nellie picked the color," she answered her mother, plucking at the dark green fabric nervously. It was not what she would have chosen, but she trusted Aunt Nellie's opinion at the tailor more than she trusted her own. If she had her way, she would be in light cotton dresses running through sunlit meadows, not stuffed into a stiff silk gown with her hair pinned back from her head and curled into submission. The thought of meadows and rebellion made her pause inwardly. It had been some time since such a notion had crossed her mind, and here it was waltzing over her consciousness as casually as if she were fourteen again and wild to the core.

"Lord Bryce will not be in attendance tonight," Lord Collingwood said dully, looking out the window at the finest houses in London passing slowly outside. "There is another gentleman I would like you to attend to in his stead."

Bella smiled to herself. Lord Bryce had not been in her list of suitors ever since the picnic. She had known it would be thusly when he kissed her hand in farewell while looking past her at Emma the entire time. She could not say she was disappointed. "And who is this other gentleman?"

"William Clifton, the heir to the Duke of Cavendish," Lord Collingwood stated, as dully as if he was reading the name out of a book of records.

"The Marquess of Ramsgate?" Lady Collingwood said, raising her eyebrows. "You did not tell me that he would be in attendance." Her smile faltered a bit and she added, "Although I think that might be considered a bit high reaching for our Isabella. I doubt she will be able to catch his eye."

How touched I am by your faith in me, Bella thought drily. Lord Collingwood interjected, fixing Bella with a hard stare, "Well, you should try at any rate. I know your Aunt Nellie had to beg off the evening's activities after her headache today, but that is no reason to grow lax in your own duty. She is absent, but your mother and I will still be there to ensure you behave properly."

"How bolstered I am by your constant oversight," Bella said quietly.

"Are you trying to be smart with us?" Lady Collingwood sniffed. "Sarcasm is not fitting on the tongue of a lady."

Bella should have said something about not intending disrespect, but the words would not leave her mouth. She realized they would have been a lie, and she was tired of lying. Instead, she did the next best thing and stayed silent for the remainder of the ride.

When they pulled up outside the dinner party, she was startled to see Grace just outside, waiting and looking out across the courtyard as though searching for someone. As she walked up the front steps with her parents, she hesitated by Grace's side and asked, "Are you looking for someone?"

Grace turned, her face breaking into a smile at the sight of Bella. "I didn't know you would be in attendance tonight," she said brightly.

Lord Collingwood gave a stiff bow and proceeded up the steps ahead of the ladies, but Lady Collingwood hung back. "Are your parents here?" she asked. "Or are you accompanied by your brother?"

"My parents are just inside," Grace said, "but Simon is not here. He was called away on business and will not return for a few days at least."

"How unfortunate," Lady Collingwood said, her tone dripping with the same sarcasm that she had condemned Bella for only a few minutes before. "Well, I suppose we shall see you inside, then."

"I'd like a word with Grace first, Mother," Bella said quickly, pulling her arm free from her mother's.

Lady Collingwood looked displeased. "Be quick about it," she said. "We should not keep our host waiting."

Bella nodded in agreement and watched her mother ascend the remaining steps like a queen alighting in her throne room. When they were alone at last, she turned back to Grace. "What are you doing out here?" she asked.

"Lord Anthony was to come tonight," Grace said, a bright spot of color in her cheeks. "I needed to speak with him before we walked into the dinner party."

"On what matter?" Bella asked.

Grace looked down at her toes, the blush deepening. "I wanted to know what all he wished to be common knowledge, and what I should keep to myself."

Bella understood at once, and reached out to catch her friends' hand up in her own. "You don't mean…. Grace? Did he make his intentions known?"

"Yes!" She raised her eyes with delight. "That is, he spoke with my father only last night and was accepted. I know it all seems very fast, but I feel so sure of Lord Anthony—there is no reason to linger when we could be spending more purposeful time together. I have no desire to sort through other suitors who carry no interest while Lord Anthony languishes on the sideline."

"So you are to be married?" Bella whispered in a low voice. "When?"

"We have not sorted out all the details, but the courtship is certainly underway," Grace said, biting her lip with another shy blush. "I just don't want to make assumptions about our public image without Lord Anthony to confirm them. When we went inside, a woman asked if there were any gentlemen who had caught my eye. I did not know whether or not to be honest."

As she spoke, a tall form made his way across the courtyard in their direction. Bella guessed at once who it was, and whispered, "He is on his way here now. I shall make my excuses and leave you a moment alone, but see that you do not stay outside for a conspicuous amount of time. It will not be deemed proper."

"Look who is now the soul of propriety," Grace teased in a low voice. "I would never have guessed it of the Bella I grew up with."

Well, I'm a very different Bella now.

Lord Anthony proved gracious and suave during their brief introduction, although it was clear that he only had eyes for Grace. Bella stayed only as long as was polite, and then slipped away into the dinner party to give her friend a chance to confirm battle plans with her betrothed.

As she walked up the stairs, her mind drifted back to the first thing Grace had said upon their meeting—that Simon was called away on business and would not be back for a few days. Bella found herself hoping, foolishly or not, that this business trip was the reason behind Simon's silence over the last week, and not some renewed dalliance with Amelia Lafleche.

Even as the thought crossed her mind, she shooed it away, embarrassed. I have no ownership of Simon's social schedule, much less his heart. If he chooses to spend time with Lady O'Mara, then who am I to stop him?

But she wanted to stop him. She wanted to, very much.

No sooner had she stepped into the parlor to join the dinner party than her thoughts were torn away from Simon by the appearance of a small, delicate little man with ink-black hair and a pair of dark eyes that fixed on Bella with an unsettling intensity.

"Lady Isabella? I saw your parents enter but feared you were absent the evening's festivities when you did not show." He bowed, looking around him quickly before sharing in a conspiratorial tone, "I know it is dreadfully improper to introduce myself, but let us pretend we've already met, and the room will not force us to wait any longer for each other's company."

Bella kept her tone equally low, so as not to give away the gentleman's little ruse. "But we haven't met," she said quietly, "and so you must forgive me for having no idea at all who you are."

"No idea ‘at all' she says," the young man scoffed. He was handsome, but in the frail and sickly way that had stolen the hearts of so many young women when Lord Byron first came on the London social scene. "That wounds me greatly, my lady. Are you telling me that word of Lord Ramsgate has not already rushed through London like wildfire?"

So this was Lord Ramsgate, the heir to the Duke of Cavendish. Bella could not help being a little disappointed. It would have been easier to go along with her father's schemes if she felt even the slightest attraction to the gentleman in question. The pale handsome face seemed conniving to her eye, and the dark eyes were more beady than intriguing.

"Ah, I have heard of you after all," she said, forcing a demure smile. "But I had no face to put with the name."

"That is because you have not been to my ancestral home," Lord Ramsgate said expansively. "If you had, you would have seen the numerous portraits that my mother had painted of my visage. She fairly lines the halls with them."

This would have been self-deprecating in the mouth of another man—Simon, for instance—but Bella could see that Lord Ramsgate meant it as a boast of sorts. She hid a smile and appealed to his ego as an escape.

"If you really are Lord Ramsgate," she demurred, "you must be depriving the other guests of your presence by focusing your attentions on a newcomer such as myself. Perhaps we should join the larger party."

"You are too modest, my lady," Lord Ramsgate said, smiling at her with an expression she suspected was quite effective on the other young ladies of the ton. Bella wondered absently why it had no effect whatsoever on her as the man continued confidentially, "You are no ‘newcomer.' I have heard little else since your return from Ireland but that the Lady Isabella is the most beautiful and poised lady of the Season, and any gentleman who wins her attentions is fortunate indeed. I see that the rumors are not exaggerated."

"You are kind," she said, uncomfortable with the turn the conversation was taking.

"I am not kind," he corrected her. "I am enchanted."

At these words, so sickly sweet as to make Bella hide yet another smile, the gentleman snatched up her hand and tucked it possessively into the crook of his elbow before drawing her further into the room. Apparently, Lord Ramsgate had a few people he wished her to meet. She followed along at his side as she knew her parents would wish.

At one point, she caught sight of her mother watching from the corner. Lady Collingwood deigned to bestow a tolerant smile and nod of approval in Bella's direction, and then turned her attention elsewhere.

At least she is happy. Bella tried to tell herself that her parents' approval was enough and slipped quietly behind the mask Aunt Nellie had taught her to fashion for herself. She smiled coyly at compliments, laughed inanely at jokes that weren't funny, and allowed Lord Ramsgate to pull her from group to group as though he owned her. All the while, she tried to push the image of Simon, and what he would think of this charade, far from her mind.