The Blackmailed Beauty Read online

  His mother smiled, “If you’d like to think it is, I would not be disappointed. I am getting older you know. It would be nice to see my son’s offspring before I die.”

  ****

  Claire spent the next fortnight preparing for her trip. Hoping her sisters and mother would tend it while she was away, she spent some quiet time readying her beloved garden for spring. She used the time to concentrate on the challenges lying ahead. At least she had met the earl and would recognize him at society affairs. Now, if she only had an idea how to catch his eye and make him want her.

  She readied the small amount of clothing she would take with her. Uncle Yale had promised a new wardrobe and, while Claire felt she should not accept it, she knew her father could not afford to provide one for her.

  She spent the nights tossing and turning. Nightmares also plagued her sleep. The vision of a leering face with his breath hot on her mouth troubled her every night. The sound of Lady Regina saying repeatedly, “You're ruined, you're ruined,” woke her often.

  Her mother remarked how she was quieter than usual, and Claire assured her she was just nervous about London. “I do hope I shall know how to go on,” she had said only to receive assurance she would be fine. At last, the Viscount and Viscountess of Amhearst, along with their daughter, Miss Willa Dutton, arrived.

  The family spent an evening catching up on news and savoring their time together, but before long, the time for bed drew near. At dawn, with the last of the luggage loaded and the farewells made, the three women—Lady Amhearst, Willa, and Claire— stepped into the carriage. The viscount mounted his stallion, and they were off.

  Claire noticed her cousin practically squirmed in anticipation. “I can’t wait to arrive,” she admitted. “I do hope our wardrobes will be ready soon and our invitations begin to arrive right away.”

  “You need not worry,” Claire’s aunt assured her daughter. “Seamstresses are careful to hire additional help during the season, and invitations will arrive immediately upon our letting it be known we are in town.”

  Claire was quieter than her cousin. A dark cloud of blackmail continued to hang over her head. The impending challenge placed before her was so difficult to consider she almost constantly had a headache. At last, she did manage to push it aside and concentrate on the lively conversation with Willa and her Aunt Blythe, for she did not want them to become suspicious.

  “Tell us about the season,” Claire prodded her aunt.

  This passed the time quickly for the girls as they listened to the viscountess reminisce about her season and the glamour accompanying it all.

  The trip seemed long, but they accomplished it in one day by limiting their stops to those most necessary. It was not quite dark by the time they pulled up in front of the viscount’s Berkley Square town home.

  Claire discovered her aunt and uncle’s London home was even larger and more beautiful than she had expected. It had a welcoming and comforting air, with decorations in the height of fashion. Willa escorted her up the stairs and threw open the door to the room directly across the hall from her own. This room, decorated in cheerful blues and yellows, overlooked the small garden in the back.

  “Do you like it?” Willa asked anxiously.

  “It is perfect!” Claire enthused. “I am at home already.”

  A plump, red-headed girl dressed in a maid’s uniform appeared at the door. “This is Molly,” Willa introduced. “She’s our new lady’s maid. Mother picked her out for us as she has real talent with hair and gowns.”

  The servant, a young woman about their age, bobbed a curtsy. “It’s a pleasure to serve you, Miss,” the maid replied.

  “Thank you, Molly,” Claire replied. “I’ve never had a lady’s maid before and do hope you’ll show me how to go on.”

  The maid began to unpack the trunks while Willa and Claire chattered with one another.

  “Mother says we can start shopping tomorrow,” Willa said. “I’m anxious to do so although I know I’ll despise standing around for the numerous fittings.”

  Claire assured her cousin, “It will be worth being patient. I just don’t know how to thank your parents for bringing me out. The cost of it all must be frightful.”

  Willa waved away her concerns. “One of Father’s colts brings many times the cost of a new wardrobe. I do want to warn you, Mother is a tyrant when she is shopping. She’ll drag us up and down Bond Street until we are exhausted.”

  Claire laughed at her cousin. Aunt Blythe was the kindest of women, and she did not see her as Willa described.

  “I’m hoping to get a riding habit made up right away,” Willa confided. “Our horses should arrive in a day or so. I know you don’t ride much, but Father picked out a sweet, little gray mare for you. Her name is Clover.”

  “Is she gentle?” Claire asked a bit worriedly. Her uncle had a reputation as one of England’s top breeders, and his horses were acclaimed for their spirit.

  Willa laughed. “Of course she is,” she answered, “but don’t worry. I’m determined we should ride every day, and you’ll be much more comfortable in no time.”

  “I do hope so.”

  “Whenever you’ve come to visit, you’ve ridden very well for someone who gets little practice,” Willa assured her.

  “Yes, but it still seems awkward,” Claire replied. “I don’t see how you can ride neck or nothing as you do.”

  “And I have no idea how you can bear to dig around in the dirt as you do,” Willa said impishly. “But I love you dearly anyway!”

  Claire enthused, “And I you, dear cousin!”

  Chapter Three

  Willa woke early to the sounds of Molly moving quietly around the room. An avid horsewoman, she usually bounced out of bed eagerly in order to be on horseback just as dawn broke.

  Sitting up and stretching she greeted her servant. “Morning, Molly.”

  “Good morning, Miss,” the freckled maid returned. Although she had been with her young mistress only a short time, she already knew her early morning habits.

  “Is my cousin awake?” Willa asked her.

  “I woke Miss Stuart just minutes ago. Lady Amhearst says you are to rise early and be ready to attend Madame Gousset’s as soon as she opens shop.”

  Willa threw back the bed covers, anxious to get on with her day. “What shall I wear?” she asked the maid.

  “I thought the orange sprigged would be nice, Miss,” Molly answered. “You’ve said it’s quite comfortable.”

  “Yes,” Willa agreed, “and my most comfortable slippers. I’ll be on my feet most of the day.”

  Molly nodded her agreement and went about collecting the requested clothing. She soon had her mistress ready for the day. Willa watched in the mirror as the maid put her hair up in a simple style which would not muss easily during her expected fittings.

  She was well into breaking her fast when Claire appeared in the breakfast room. “Good morning,” Willa greeted her cousin. “Eat heartily, for we shall be starving by the time Mother finishes dragging us about town,” she warned.

  “Is Aunt Blythe such a tyrant?” Claire asked, unable to imagine it.

  “Yes, when she has her mind set on shopping, she is,” Willa answered. “Otherwise, like your mother, she is the most amiable of people." Willa paused for a brief time and then continued. "I do hope we get gowns with some color,” she said, having worried over the fact of how most debutantes wore only white or the palest pastels.

  “Especially for you,” Claire agreed. “I do not look bad in white, but you are so pretty in nature’s colors.”

  “In nature’s colors?” Willa asked, with a confused look on her face.

  “Yes, indeed,” Claire assured her. “I would dress you in the yellow of daisies, the red of roses, and the orange of my favorite nasturtiums.”

  “That would be delightful, and I am so glad we are here together,” Willa said. “I am such a hoyden. I’m sure my mother is hoping your more ladylike ways will rub off on me,” she finished wit
h an impish grin.

  “Nonsense, you are not a hoyden,” Claire replied. “You’re graceful and you love pretty gowns. You always know how to go on. It is I who am unsure about how to behave.”

  They ended their conversation when the viscountess hurried into the room. “I am glad to see you both here,” she said, “I was worried you had both slept in after our long day yesterday.”

  “Of course not, Mother,” Willa said, “You know I always rise early. I warned Claire you were a tyrant when it comes to shopping so she must be ready early.”

  “I am no such thing,” her mother argued.

  The morning indeed seemed tiresome. Willa’s feet ached by the time they left Madame Gousset’s. Lady Amhearst hurried them down Bond Street to a little shop which had the most charming bonnets in the window. Stepping inside, Willa's gaze fell on a saucy little straw bonnet trimmed with cherries and green ribbon. Claire had wandered off toward a wall display, and Willa had just sat to try the pretty creation on when a large woman sailed through the door. Spying the viscountess, the woman approached her with enthusiasm.

  “Lady Amhearst, I am most delighted to see you. I was just thinking you would surely be in town this season as your daughter must be of an age to be brought out," the other lady spoke.

  “Yes, she is, Lady Roydon,” the viscountess replied. “Do let me introduce you.”

  She motioned to Willa and, placing the bonnet back on its stand, Willa rose and joined them. After she received an introduction, she felt she made a creditable curtsy and polite reply. There was little time to dwell on it, however, before her mother called to Claire.

  “And this is my sister’s eldest, Miss Claire Stuart. She will be making her come out with Willa.”

  Claire responded properly before Lady Roydon looked at her with slightly raised brows and a somewhat surprised look upon her face. At last she spoke. “My, you are a diamond of the first water, my girl. You will turn all of London upon its ear.”

  Claire beamed and dropped into a curtsy. “Thank you, my lady, although I daresay there are many young ladies far more beautiful than I,” she replied in her husky voice.

  Lady Roydon snorted in a rather amusing yet most unladylike fashion. “We shall see,” she announced before looking back at Willa. “And you are a delightful young lady,” the countess continued. “Are you as horse mad as your father?” she asked.

  Willa decided to answer truthfully, “I’m afraid so, ma’am.”

  The older lady smiled. “That will make you most popular with many of the gentlemen,” she said. “My son, for instance, lives and breathes for those animals.” She paused and then turned back to the viscountess, “I’m having a small ball to open the season. I will be sure to send around an invitation.”

  “We will be more than pleased to attend,” the viscountess spoke for them all. “I know the girls are looking forward to attending their first ball.”

  “It will be an honor to have two such well-behaved girls in attendance,” Lady Roydon replied. “And now I must pick up a bonnet I had left to have trimmed.”

  Only moments later, the lady had finished her business and sailed back out the door, the tinkling of the bell sounding in her wake. As soon as she had gone, Willa whispered to her mother. “Our first ball!” She couldn’t restrain herself. This was why they had come to London. “Will we have our gowns done by then?”

  “Of course we will,” her mother replied. “Although we should stop back by and tell Madame Gousset which gowns we need done in a rush.”

  As they left the shop later, Claire tucked her arm through Willa’s. “I’m so excited,” she said. “Although I did wonder if your mother could not have just sent around a note to the modiste.”

  Willa squeezed her cousin’s arm. “Your feet must ache, too,” she whispered, “but the thought of the ball is almost enough to make me quit thinking about mine.”

  The next few days seemed short to the girls. They spent the early mornings riding in the park, accompanied by two grooms. The practice gave Claire more confidence on horseback, and she found the little mare to be a delight. Mornings were spent with fittings and shopping, and by teatime they fell exhausted in their chairs hoping to refresh themselves with tea and biscuits.

  Her aunt hired a dancing master to introduce them to the waltz. Although both girls danced gracefully and were well-versed in the art of the country dances, the viscountess was adamant they be just as accomplished at the shocking and popular new waltz. These lessons took place so as not to conflict with other activities.

  They spent the evenings at home. After dinner, the viscount and viscountess insisted the girls practice their musical talents. Claire was quite an accomplished harpist and was proficient on the pianoforte, so she often accompanied vocalists. She felt she had a nice singing voice and was not ashamed to entertain in public, having done so for many years in the church. Willa was not so skilled but did have a sweet soprano voice. The two performed a creditable duet upon occasion.

  The full days almost caused Claire to forget about Lady Regina and her threat. Yet she had not shaken the nightmares she experienced and her sense of dread was not forgotten. Always thin, she found she had lost weight since the attack. She was sensible enough to know others considered her beautiful, and this was the only asset she had when compared to the other young women. Knowing she must not become too thin, she forced herself to eat. Additionally, she cared for her skin each day and had begged cucumber slices from the cook for the dark circles under her eyes.

  At last, the day of Lady Roydon’s ball arrived. The modiste’s deliveryman brought their dresses in the morning. When the viscountess sent the girls to their rooms to rest, Claire tried to think of things she could say to the earl if given the opportunity. She wanted to say witty things so the earl might be attracted to her. In nature, it seemed so easy when animals appealed to one another by color or sound or smell. In reality, it was much more difficult for humans. However, on the off chance these same qualities attracted the human male, she took great care in her preparations for the evening.

  Her gown was of a blue satin, so pale it was the color of the winter ice on the ponds at home. It was a simple cut, which accentuated her lithe figure. The square cut bodice was stylish, but to Claire it seemed shockingly low. Her mother had loaned her the family pearls and these would adorn her neck. She had chosen to leave her hairstyle up to Molly. The maid pinned it atop her head but left a number of tendrils hanging loose to softly frame her face. She applied a bit of rosewater to her skin, dabbing it at the base of her throat. Then, determining there was nothing further she could do, she pulled on her long white gloves and tried to force herself to relax.

  When the time to leave approached, Claire opened her door to find her cousin just stepping out of her room as well. “Willa, you are so beautiful,” she exclaimed. Indeed, her cousin's pretty yellow gown accented her complexion, bringing out the girl’s lively brown eyes. The maid had arranged her brunette tresses in perky ringlets, which bounced as she moved.

  “And you,” Willa breathed, “look like a princess.”

  The two made their way down the stairs to join the viscount and viscountess.

  It seemed to take forever to arrive at Lord Roydon’s mansion in Grosvenor Square. Their carriage inched along as it waited in a queue to finally pull up in front of the door. At last, the footman set down the step and pulled open the door.

  Claire felt butterflies dancing in her stomach as she followed her aunt and uncle up the steps. Anxious to see the earl, yet scared at the same time, she tried to force herself to relax. It didn’t help when she could sense an equally anxious tension emanating from Willa next to her.

  At the top of the steps, they entered the foyer of the grand home. Several footmen were available for taking wraps, and soon they were standing in line, moving slowly toward the Earl of Roydon and his mother.

  “I am so glad you have come,” the dowager countess said graciously to Claire’s aunt. “You do know my son, of c
ourse,” she continued.

  Claire watched as the earl greeted her aunt and uncle with enthusiasm, evidence of his love of horses. Willa was next to receive an introduction to the earl. As Claire stepped up and Lady Roydon began to introduce her, the earl gently interrupted her.

  “Miss Stuart and I have met, Mother,” he said. “Her father gave us a most enjoyable tour of his church when we stopped there with Lady Regina.” He smiled at Claire, bowed over her hand, and then proceeded, “Do save me a dance, Miss Stuart. I shall look forward to it.”

  Claire’s butterflies fled in an instant. He remembered her! And he had seemed quite happy at the prospect of a dance. Perhaps her task was not so daunting after all.

  “You did not tell me you had met Lord Roydon,” Willa whispered.

  “Yes, I met him about a fortnight ago,” Claire answered. “He and the Duke of Lamberton were visiting Lord Berwick, and they stopped in to tour the church.”

  “The Duke of Lamberton!” Willa squealed.

  ****

  Noel was visiting with Lord Radbert on the far side of the ballroom when something caused him to look up. The lovely Miss Stuart, who had taken up much of his thoughts in the recent past, was just entering the room. She took his breath away, standing there in a gown which he found to be quite stunning. On second thought, however, it was not the gown but the figure beneath it which so attracted him. Her hair, even at this distance, seemed to shimmer with silver highlights, making him want to touch it.

  Finding himself unable to consider doing anything else, he made his excuses to his friend and fought his way through the crowd with a single purpose in mind. As he neared, he discovered he could barely breathe; such was his attraction to her. After what seemed an endless walk, he found himself in front of her.

  “Miss Stuart.” Ah, he could still speak. He reached for her gloved hand, lifting it to his lips as he bowed over it. “It is my pleasure to meet you again. I do hope London is what you had hoped.”

  He straightened and gazed into her eyes, losing himself in the blueness. She smiled, and he grew warm.