Royal Regard by Mariana Gabrielle Page B

hoop and
down her nose at Charlotte. “Did I? How unfortunate.”
    She reached over to the bell pull, bringing
the housekeeper into the room. “Mrs. Jemison, can you please
arrange the carriage and one of the footmen for me at half past
twelve? My husband will insist I not drive in Town, so it had
better be Benjamin—”
    Charlotte yelped, “Drive?! Why in Heaven’s
name would you drive? Have you somehow overcome your fear of
horses?”
    “I have overcome my fear of many things,
Charlotte.” Bella turned to Mrs. Jemison and continued, “It will be
helpful if the young man knows the shopping districts, as I am no
longer familiar.”
    “Of course, my lady.”
    “If you make a list, I will ensure you have
adequate china, linens, and silver by the time you serve supper
this evening, and I will send an upholsterer to inventory the
furniture.” The housekeeper almost permitted herself a small smile.
“And since Lady Firthley clearly refuses leave, you may as well
bring tea. No cakes, though, as she is getting to be as fat as a
sow in milk.”
    Mrs. Jemison gaped for only a moment, quickly
blanking her face.
    Charlotte rolled her eyes. “You mustn’t tease
Mrs. Jemison, Bella. She is not yet familiar with your waspish
disposition, and I’m sure she is the only person in London, barring
myself, who can keep you from social ruin. Mrs. Jemison, please
bring us tea and cakes. Cakes for ten, in fact.” Charlotte nodded
decisively as the housekeeper stared helplessly at Bella.
    “Only enough cakes for nine, please, as I
won’t be having any, and Lady Firthley must have already eaten. You
may go now, before she decides to invite herself to nuncheon and
leaves you nothing in the larder but lettuce.”
    Once the housekeeper had left, shaking her
head, Charlotte quickly continued the irritating line of
conversation, while Bella ran the end of the thread under the
stitches on the back of the cloth, tying a knot to hold it firm.
Once finished, she clipped the thread and ran her fingers over the
design, ensuring her stitches were even.
    Charlotte smoothed her skirt and
unconsciously tapped her beaded violet silk slipper as if she were
still in last night’s ballroom.
    “The Duke of Wellbridge would have danced
with you with the slightest encouragement. He was staring all
night.”
    “And yet, like every other gentleman, he
never asked,” Bella noted, as she threaded pink silk through the
needle. A sudden crash of the burning log sent sparks flying about
the hearth. Bella found the sudden heat set her shivering, and
Charlotte moved quickly to make sure no errant flames caught the
muddy-gold carpet. Finding none, she added a small log and returned
to her seat.
    “Can you blame him after the slur on Lord
Malbourne? Everyone heard it.” Charlotte observed. “Besides, his
sister had him dancing with debutantes all evening.”
    As she threaded the needle with a dark grey,
Bella asked, “Which one was Wellbridge?”
    “The terribly handsome man whose attendance
on the dance floor was enforced by the Viscountess Nockham all
night.”
    “I don’t know Lady Nockham. I don’t know
anyone, you might recall.”
    “You remember Lady Allison. She tried to run
off in her brother’s clothes to stow away on his ship.”
    Bella laughed aloud, “I do remember that. I
envied her until they dragged her home and locked her up in the
country. I will make a point to encourage an acquaintance.”
    “Indeed.” Charlotte was suddenly as crafty as
a politician arranging a bribe, painting a circle on the floor with
the toe of her shoe. “If only because Wellbridge is the
brother.”
    Bella turned away to continue needling
Charlotte as pointedly as her embroidery. “And which gentleman was
Wellbridge exactly?”
    “For Heaven’s sake, you needn’t pretend to be
so silly. He was the one you caught staring over the shoulder of a
girl-in-white every time you looked.” Charlotte poked Bella in the
arm. “Not that you were