Forced Offer (18 page)

Once she had combed out Belinda's hair all three girls turned to the mirror and for a few moments they were silent.

See that, mum? Why, you're another person altogether. Ain’t she, Miss Irene?"

"Oh, Belinda," Irene agreed, "You look so pretty, no one would know you. I mean—"

"I hardly know myself," Belinda agreed as she stared at the image in the mirror. "It…feels…strange…"

She realized that a lot of the change in her face had to do with her weight gain and she was resolved to ask Dr. Casper about this, tomorrow when he was due for a visit.

* * * * *

Dr. Casper, startled at Belinda's entrance into the library where he awaited her, nervously took off his spectacles and cleaned them in order to see Lady Berrington better.

"Good morning, doctor," said Belinda, smiling at the bemused doctor who was now putting back his spectacles.

"Lady Berrington, you are looking well," he managed to say trying to keep himself from staring.

"I have been looking forward to our meeting, doctor," said Belinda, happy to see in Dr. Casper's eyes a confirmation of what her mirror had told her these last two rainy days.

When the doctor was seated Belinda resumed, "I find a lot of changes in me since my illness. In particular, a gain in weight, which I am sure you have noticed."

"Yes, my lady, I have noticed," said the doctor, "and it is certainly becoming to you."

"Thank you. It is of this in particular I wanted to talk to you about. Why do you think this is so, and is it normal?"

"Normal? Yes, why should it not be?"

"Because," said Belinda, "before my illness, doctor, to say that I was gaunt was to put it in a sympathetic way. All my life my mother tried unsuccessfully to add pounds to my weight and it was to no avail. Until I fell ill—well you must remember how I looked—I was so thin I could hardly bear to glance at the mirror.

"You have no idea how many unkind words and descriptions of myself said loud enough for me to hear came my way during all those years.

"As a child all manner of cruel nicknames were applied to me—stick, bean pole, bony face."

Relaxing a bit, Dr. Casper sighed, ran a hand over his forehead and settled back in his chair.

"After an illness such as the one you had, Lady Berrington, the body's metabolism may sometimes change drastically. That is the most logical reason for the change in you.

"In your case, and seeing you in glowing health as you are now, I do not mind telling you that you were at death's door. And I have to admit that I had no hope.

"Although I am a general practitioner, during the last years of my practice I have treated many cases of lung disease such as yours and I have never seen one advance more quickly than yours. Both your lungs were invaded by the pneumonia and there came a point where your breathing came out only in gasps.

"I went so far as to suggest to Lord Berrington that he should have the vicar in at once, but he would have none of it. I have never seen anything like it."

"Excuse me, doctor, what was it you said about Lord Berrington? You said he would have none of it. What do you mean exactly?"

Belinda felt her whole body tense in expectation as she waited for the doctor to go on.

"His words exactly, Lady Berrington, were 'she is not going to die.' Your husband is a man of strong character, as I am sure you know."

"Yes, I know," said Belinda slowly and in a steady, quiet voice heard herself ask the doctor:

"And then what did he do?" She hung on the doctor's answer, waiting in unbearable tension for him to answer her.

"He ordered everyone out of your room, my lady, locked the door and spent the night in there with you.

"I do not know what it was he did for after a few hours of waiting outside I went to sleep in the library."

"And then, in the morning?" Belinda prodded.

"A recovery that I can only call miraculous, my lady, for there is no other description for it. Certainly there is not a clinical one."

"Thank you for telling me this, doctor," said Belinda, forcing the words out through a constricted throat.

When the doctor had left, Belinda remained in the library for a long time, tears silently streaming down her face.

"Belinda! Belinda!"

"What—what is it?" asked Belinda, wiping her eyes hurriedly as Irene came running into the room.

"Willie and Cathy are taking Penny to London for the Season. Can we go too?"

"To London?" asked Belinda aghast.

"Yes—could we, please? They are staying at Willie’s Aunt Elinor's for the duration and they have asked us to come along with them.

"Willie’s aunt is Countess Clavendale."

"I…I don't know," Belinda began, her heart racing at the possibility of seeing her husband once more, yet appalled at the enormity of the idea.

"We'll buy lots of gowns in those stylish shops and you'll turn the ton on its ear, Belinda," said Irene happily.

"Oh, don't be silly, Irene," said Belinda, smiling in spite of herself.

"Were you crying?"

"No, I just, this rain was making me sentimental, I guess," admitted Belinda.

"Well, you can stop being sentimental because the rain has stopped so we can now go out riding with Willie and Penny, they're downstairs waiting for us."

"The trails must be muddy."

"Oh, what does it matter if they are," said Irene, not wanting anything to dampen her exuberant mood. "Come, I can't wait for us to start making plans with them for the Season. It is to start in just three weeks.

"We'll walk along the Serpentine and go to Vauxhall Gardens disguised in dominoes."

Belinda was coaxed into laughing as she and Irene went down the stairs. Irene was so much changed from the awkward, bitter young girl she once was that Belinda was certain Lord Berrington would be pleased with her.

* * * * *

"Your eyes tell me I am very changed, Willie," said Belinda, laughing. Penny and Irene were by a stream playing with tadpoles and for once Lord Wilbur and Belinda were having a quiet conversation.

They had ridden for an hour and laughingly admitted that they were torturing the horses with the slosh from the rains and had instead sat on fallen trunk trees by a stream to enjoy the bright clean sky and the mild day.

"Yes," Lord Wilbur said hurriedly, "you are looking well, Lady Berrington, I—"

"Oh, Willie," said Belinda laughing, "what does it take to wring a compliment from you?"

Feeling intensely uncomfortable, Lord Wilbur turned away from her laughing eyes. Eyes he was proud to have been the one to discover. The proof of their beauty was now before him.

"Countess, I—"

"Call me Belinda," Belinda interrupted. “You have been my only friend, when no one else could feel anything but hatred toward me, Willie."

"Lady—Belinda," Wilbur said turning to her, "you have other friends now. Penny, Irene, Cathy," he hesitated and then added, "and Richard."

Belinda said nothing to this, her high spirit dampened by a reminder of her husband.

"Are you considering going to London with us for the Season?" he asked when the silence weighed between them.

"I wish Irene were not so set on it," Belinda said in a subdued voice. "I cannot think Lord Berrington will thank me for interfering in his life there."

"You are wrong," Lord Wilbur said turning to her, "I am certain he would be very happy to see you."

"I shall write and ask him, of course," Belinda said in a dull voice, "and leave it up to him."

"Yes, of course. I am certain he will agree to the plan," Lord Wilbur said quickly.

* * * * *

The trip to London was delayed due to Cathy's baby having developed a stomach ailment. During this time Belinda and Irene had gowns made by the local seamstress, copying plates from 
La Belle Assemblee
.

Once in London, they would have other gowns made there as the Season advanced, but they would have to arrive with at least the ball gown for the Season's opening ball at Lord and Lady Haverton's.

It would be held a fortnight after their arrival in London so they must be prepared in advance.

For days Irene had to hold her disappointment in check, as Belinda assured her the small delay would not affect their plans in any way.

Lord Berrington had written a brief note to Belinda and expressed agreement for their attendance at the London social Season. Belinda, who had hoped for a more enthusiastic response to a letter in which she had spent hours had to settle for what seemed to her a harbinger of what her stay in London would be.

She would, she was certain, see little of Berrington, and those few moments that she was in his company would be as it always was, awkward and tense.

Chapter 18

Their trip to London was without incident, and their arrival at the Countess of Clavendale's mansion in St. James Square pleasurable, for the countess welcomed them with open arms, exclaiming how delightful the Season was now that she was to have company to share it with.

Belinda quickly found that Lady Clavendale was a very outspoken lady when looking her over kindly on their third day in the city, the countess shook her head in amazement.

"My dear, you are quite a surprise," she said over tea.

"I am certain you don't want reminders of the peculiar circumstances surrounding your marriage, so I will not speak of that, but I must say you are not what I expected. You are a very attractive woman, and have very lovely eyes."

"Thank you, my lady," said Belinda smiling.

"I don't know what Berrington is about, letting you go everywhere on your own. My nephew is happy to escort you to places, of course, but it should be your husband who does so."

Belinda said nothing. The day before she had been introduced to a number of people. She remembered how furiously she had blushed when Lord Nembert, a new acquaintance, finding a moment to speak alone with her at the dinner they had attended, had whispered,

"My dear Lady Berrington, if your mama ever wants to lock you in a cellar with me, she is quite welcome to do it. You have the most beautiful eyes and the most beguiling smile of the Season."

Almost a week had gone by and yet Belinda had not seen Lord Berrington. He had come by when she was not in and had left his calling card with a few words scribbled on the back, welcoming her to London.

He stayed close to his townhouse, and in the numerous places Belinda had gone to with her friends she had not seen him.

He had not made any effort to see her. This was proof enough to her that he wanted to lead a separate life from hers and though her heart was broken, she would not press her company on him by calling on him in his London townhouse in Grosvenor Square.

She prepared for the Haverton ball with care, for she thought there might be a chance that Lord Berrington would attend. She had no hope of being in his company, for it was obvious he wanted to go his own way, and had not once offered to escort her and his sister anywhere. But at the very least she would catch a glimpse of him and perhaps, now that her looks had improved so that people often complimented her, he might not be embarrassed that she was his wife.

"Oh, mum, I always knew how beautiful you could be," said Bessie excitedly after she helped Belinda into her emerald silk gown.

"Just see, my lady, how delicately the overskirt falls around it. And how lovely the ribbons at the bosom with the tiny rosettes are?"

"It is a lovely gown," said Belinda as Bessie prepared to work on her hair which was now just below the shoulders.

Bessie had become very adept at hairdressing and was always happy when trying new styles.

Tonight she was arranging Belinda's hair in the new Grecian way which she was certain would go well with Belinda's height and style. She intertwined emerald ribbon through it while Belinda, lost in thought, hardly noticed what Bessie was doing.

"That's nice, Bessie, thank you," said Belinda glancing at the mirror. "Now why don't you see if Irene needs help with her hair."

* * * * *

Sitting in the library of his London townhouse, Lord Berrington, lost in thought, hardly heard the butler as he announced Lord Wilbur's arrival and was startled as Willie came striding into the room.

"Ah, Willie, how good to see you again."

Once Lord Wilbur was seated they talked for a while as they sipped their brandy, catching up on news.

"You will attend the Haverton ball tonight?" asked Lord Wilbur, fearing for the answer to his question.

Berrington's attitude until now gave little indication that he was going to be escorting his wife and sister to any of the social events. He had not, in fact, greeted them at their arrival at the countess's house in St. James Square. "I haven't made up my mind as to that, Willie."

"I am certain Irene would be disappointed," said Wilbur without looking at Lord Berrington.

"And I am certain she will get over it," said Berrington dryly, "if she has enough swains to fill her card, as I am certain she will have. From your description there is great improvement in her. She sounds much changed from the Irene I remember."

"Yes," said Lord Wilbur, and the air was pregnant with the obvious, that there was as much change or more in Lady Berrington who had caused many eyes to turn admiringly in her direction during a ride in the park the day before.

He was certain gossip of it had reached Berrington, for he had also been in the park that afternoon, driving alone in his curricle.

"Lady Berrington would also be disappointed," Lord Wilbur forced himself to say, for he had never seen anyone as stubborn and blind as Berrington.

"I cannot think that she will," said Berrington grimly, "when she is with the only friends she ever had."

"Richard, you are either stupid or blind," said Lord Wilbur suddenly, wondering if Berrington would hit him in the pause that followed, "Belinda is—"

"So it's 'Belinda' now, is it? Well, how could it not be, Willie, when you are the only one who had any kind words for her. I can't be surprised she turned to you when she came out of her illness.

"Who else was there? Certainly not me," he added bitterly. "What I did for her was to promote the hatred against her by my indifference. I am not surprised that she would become fond of you, when her husband gallantly left her to her enemies."

"You have it all wrong!"

"Do I? Willie, you and I have always been as close as if we had been brothers. Tell me, please, before I go mad. Is there something between you and Belinda?"

"Only friendship, that is all."

Berrington shook his head and smiled bitterly, disbelieving.

"How about Belinda, how does she feel about 
you?"

"I am going to break a promise of confidence because this bumble broth will never be cleared if I don't, Richard," said Lord Wilbur, and went on hurriedly while Berrington stared at him in silence.

"Listen, Rick, that conversation that Belinda had with me some time ago—well, it was about you. She told me that she had been in love with you from the age of thirteen when you returned from war on your mother's death and she saw you riding in the forest. Her love for you, as she described it, became her secret prison and her shame.

"Her mother found out about it and saw her chance at recovering her social status. Belinda had no idea of her mother's plans and would have been horrified if she had found out. But Mrs. Presleigh made certain she didn't. And as she knew of Belinda's love for you she was able to convince her that you had written the note to her.

"Belinda found out about the plot 
after 
her mother had locked you both in the cellar. She was never part of it and would not have agreed to go down to the cellar if she had known about her mother's theft of the letter and about her practicing your handwriting.

"Rick, she knew her love for you was hopeless and was content to have it locked within her heart. The only glimpses she had of you were at balls where she was never asked to dance, and where she tried to stay as far away from you as possible.

"Her mother then told her that you had confided to her you were drawn to Belinda but that she shrank every time you approached. It was a barefaced lie she told her, and though Belinda was at first disbelieving the idea had been planted in her mind. Is it not human nature to cling to hope? But even so she was uncertain, for not having any confidence in herself and believing herself to be what everyone said she was, an antidote, she must still be coaxed into believing it by her mother.

"Rick, Belinda 
is 
guilty, but only of loving you too much. She is ridden with shame for falling to the temptation of being linked to the man she loved above everything when you proposed marriage.

"Belinda felt that she ruined your life and was certain that if she had died you would have been freed from her and in time remembered her kindly. She feels she failed you by coming back from her illness."

The silence in the room weighed heavily after Lord Wilbur had finished what he had to say. Then finally, Lord Berrington looked up.

"Thank you for telling me all this, Willie. I would like to be alone now. You won't mind?"

"No, of course not, old chum. I hope to see you soon. I'll see myself out."

* * * * *

Lord Berrington arrived at Lord Haverton's ball at the end of the long evening.

Hidden by crowds of swirling couples his brown eyes cast a swift glance around the room and settled on the at once familiar and unfamiliar figure of his wife.

With a sharp intake of breath he saw her as she smiled up at the man dancing with her, Lord Kastling. And in Lord Kastling's look Lord Berrington saw admiration and extreme attraction.

Berrington waited until the dance was over and then with long strides crossed the ballroom, oblivious of admiring female glances and at the instant fierce whispering his presence had caused.

Belinda had just been returned to the company of Cathy and Irene and looked up startled as she saw her husband striding hurriedly toward her.

A shiver like lightning went through her whole body and she would have run away if it had been at all possible, for again she felt that choking sensation as she reached her.

"Have you the next waltz engaged?" he asked her.

"I…think Lord Wilbur…" Belinda began.

"I am certain Willie won't mind," said Berrington as the first strands of the waltz filled the air, "Come, Belinda," he said offering her his hand.

Belinda took his hand, sparks shooting up her arm at his firm grip of her hand, and as one in a dream walked with him to the dance floor.

Lord Wilbur, standing alone by the wall, saw Berrington and Belinda begin the waltz and followed them with his eyes. His hand on his drink tightened and he felt a sudden pressure in his chest. He must get out of the ballroom, he thought.

She was happy now, that was all that should matter to him, he told himself, as he headed to the card room.

Belinda felt her husband's hand at her waist, and felt herself pulled toward him. Her knees weakened but she was held tightly in his warm embrace.

He looked down into her eyes, a long look that made her feel that happiness was possible for her at last.

"Willie was right," he said, "you do have beautiful eyes. You are beautiful all over, in fact."

"My lord, I…"

"Richard."

"Richard, I had not expected to see you…I…"

"Yes, I know."

"I have been a fool," he added, "I hope you will find it in your heart to forgive me, my dearest."

Belinda looked into his eyes and the room disappeared, the dancing couples swirling around them just a blaze of color. She felt she was floating in liquid joy and she never wanted to be out of his arms again.

The dance ended all too quickly and as Richard led her across the ballroom Belinda wondered if she were still asleep and would wake up to find this had been only a dream, for she could not believe what was happening.

After a few words to Cathy, Lord Berrington took Belinda's arm. "Get your wrap," he said. "You are returning with me to Grosvenor Square. It is time you see our house there."

"Will…will I be…"

"Yes, my dear, you will be spending the night there, and the rest of the nights in this Season. Cathy will send your maid with your trunks once they arrive at the Countess Clavendale's house. Irene can move back here with us tomorrow if you want."

"Oh, yes, I want that very much."

"Come," said Lord Berrington when they arrived in Grosvenor Square, and helped her down from the carriage.

"Perhaps you would like to join me in the library for a glass of Sherry?"

"Yes," Belinda said, her heart hammering in her chest as he led the way to the library.

Lord Berrington waited until the footman had lit the fire and retired.

"Come by the fire, my dear. It is much warmer," he said as Belinda hesitated by the door.

He took her wrap and led her to a cushioned sofa by the fire and after serving her a glass of sherry he sat beside her.

For a few moments they both stared at the fire as it caught and began to shoot out in bright tongues.

"Did you enjoy the ball?" he asked.

"I enjoyed the end of it much more than the beginning," said Belinda. Her improved looks and her lately formed friendships had given her more confidence in herself but it was Dr. Casper's words about the night she almost died that had filled her with an overwhelming joy.

"I hope that is because I arrived at the end," said Berrington.

"Yes, my lord, it was for that reason."

"Richard."

"Yes—Richard."

"You are much changed," said Lord Berrington, as he gazed at her fire-lit face.