Ice Angel (4 page)

F
OUR
days after meeting Lady Vane, Lord Bramwell strolled into the subscription room at White’s. His
appearance
was greeted by cheers from everyone present and within moments, he was surrounded by a large group of the club’s members, young and old, all clamouring for details of how he had achieved his triumph. They included Sir Walter Kendray himself, who congratulated Hal on beating his London to Brighton time.

‘Never thought you would do it, Bramwell,’ cried Sir Walter. ‘Four hours and twenty-five minutes exactly, eh? A fine
achievement
and a compliment to your driving skills and your horses. Your bays are the best matched team I have seen – allow me first refusal if you decide to sell.’

‘Thank you, Sir Walter, but I have no intention of parting with my horses just yet.’

‘Can’t say I blame you – would do the same myself.’ Drawing out his pocket book, Sir Walter said, ‘Shall I settle our wager now?’

Hal shook his head. ‘I am dining here this evening so we can settle our account then.’ He then added with a grin, ‘And if we meet at the gaming tables, you may have the opportunity to regain your losses.’

‘What, with your damnable luck and skill at cards?’ asked Sir Walter, with an incredulous laugh. ‘I sincerely doubt it, although I shall be happy to try provided the stakes are not too high – I have no stomach for losing my fortune on the turn of a card.’

‘Nor have I,’ acknowledged Hal. ‘In spite of my reputation, I never take unnecessary risks.’

Freddy Isherwood joined them then and, after congratulating Hal once more, Sir Walter returned to the game of cards he was involved in.

‘Well, Freddy?’ asked Hal, ‘Did you have the good sense to place a small wager on my success?’

‘Matter of fact, I did.’

‘At least you put your faith in my ability eventually,’ said Hal, amused. ‘Now, to more serious matters – did you carry out my request?’

‘Yes, though I can’t say it will do you much good,’ said Freddy. ‘Delivered the flowers to Lady Vane, just as you asked, along with your compliments. However, I didn’t see her in person. Her aunt came down and was very pretty in her thanks on Lady Vane’s behalf, but said she was out of the house running an errand. I don’t know if that was the truth or not, but Lady Vane had already received a great number of flower posies and
invitations
.’

‘Perhaps I should have delivered the flowers myself when I returned to London, but I was impatient to send her my compliments and to atone for a clumsy comment I made during our conversation,’ said Hal.

‘I see,’ mused Freddy. ‘Well, Mrs Forster reeled off the list of people who had called in Curzon Street. Seems Lady Vane is extremely popular although that’s hardly surprising – most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen! Apart from,’ he added, with a grin, ‘your sister, of course.’

‘I expected nothing less, Freddy. She is a bewitchingly lovely creature and all of London will fall at her feet. But I am intrigued by more than her beauty: she seemed offended by me.’

‘Lord, Hal, why should anyone take offence at you, least of all Lady Vane? She has only just arrived in town.’

Lord Bramwell shrugged. ‘I acknowledge my imperfections; perhaps I should have been more formal in my introduction and, as I said, I made an unfortunate maladroit remark. However, I do not believe she was piqued solely by that. No, there is
something
else and I mean to discover what it is.’

‘I wish you luck but you’ll have to fight your way to her through Dinny – he’s already called in Curzon Street twice and Mrs Forster told me that Lady Vane had received him on one occasion,’ said Freddy.

Hal raised his brows at this but said no more – he had no desire to share even with Freddy all his reflections on Lady Vane. He had been mesmerized from the moment he had laid eyes on her, feeling almost as if he had received a physical blow. Stirred by this strange madness, he had subsequently struggled to stay his planned three days in Brighton because he had wanted to hurry back in the hope of seeing her again. He had encountered many beautiful women before, and admired them, but not one had refused to leave his thoughts like Isabella Vane had.

Since Felicity Richmond had broken their engagement and eloped with Lord Portland, Hal had not sought out any women who expected more affection than he was willing to give. The optimism he had given to that youthful love affair had been dashed on the vicious rocks of reality and when, eventually, he had realized that it was his pride that had been damaged and not his heart, he had determined to stay away from any serious attachments with women in the future – they seemed to offer only pain and embarrassment.

This he had done, and the care of his family and the
responsibilities
associated with his estates had taken precedence. His reputation had arisen from escapades that he undertook simply for the challenge they represented. Hal did not care that most of London admired him for his sporting and gaming prowess and knew nothing of his other interests and philanthropic work.

But Hal had discovered that he did care what Lady Vane thought of him. Her curious elusive air, a mixture of sadness, reserve and striking beauty, struck an unexpected chord deep within him. He had glimpsed vulnerability behind her cold glances which, to his astonishment, appealed to his protective instincts. Yet she obviously disliked him from the outset and in the intervening hours since their meeting, Hal had struggled to think of any serious indiscretion he might have committed.

Bitterly, he cursed himself for having said that he would like to kiss away her ill-humour. He did not know what had possessed him to utter such a tactless remark, even though he admitted ruefully that it had been the truth and he had simply spoken his thoughts aloud. However, Lady Vane had not then trilled her delight and begun a determined flirtation – she seemed unaware of her allure and he had not detected an ounce of vanity – nor did he think she reacted with disdain for prudish reasons. Her dislike had been present even before his comment and it irked him that he could not account for it.

Sir Seymour might have discussed him with Lady Vane, but Hal knew that Dinny was no liar and his amiable nature possessed no malice; again, nothing Sir Seymour could have said would have induced her contempt.

There must be another reason, one that Hal felt compelled to uncover.

Harriet glanced at her niece in frustration as Isabella instructed Silwood to inform Lord Marston, who was waiting downstairs, that they were not at home to callers.

‘I do not understand you,’ observed Harriet, after Silwood had left the room. ‘You refuse to see any of the pleasant young men who have called here since we attended Lady Pargeter’s party. They are merely being polite and for you to spurn their
admiration
is unkind. You may be considered a cold-hearted creature if you do not show a little more interest.’

Isabella raised her brows and gave a quizzical smile. ‘Do you think me cold, Aunt?’

‘No, indeed! You are the kindest, most considerate young woman,’ said Harriet earnestly. ‘I simply believe that you could receive more of your admirers than you seem inclined to at present.’

‘But for what reason, Harriet? I have no desire to encourage any gentleman.’ Isabella sighed, sadness shadowing her eyes. ‘Now we are in society again, I realize how much I wish to avoid people.’ Noting her aunt’s shocked expression, she continued, ‘Oh, do not fear that I will become a recluse – I should never do so, and certainly do not want Dominic to become afraid of society. But I cannot trust anyone yet and I will not allow my—that is to say, our current peace of mind to be ruined,
particularly
by men who only wish to beguile the season away with an agreeable flirtation.’

‘They may not all be so frivolous,’ protested Harriet,
indignant
. ‘Why, Lord Marston has called every morning this past three days, as have many others – they might genuinely wish to know you better.’

‘Perhaps, but I take care for all our sakes, not merely my own. Do not think too harshly of me, Harriet. Perhaps there will be someone one day to whom I can entrust my feelings, and those of my family.’

‘But how shall you meet such a person if you will not even receive morning callers?’ she grumbled.

Isabella laughed outright at this, her smile lighting up her features. ‘Then I make you a promise not to turn every
well-meaning
young man away from our door.’

‘Sir Seymour is taken with your charms,’ said Harriet, glancing at her niece from under her lashes, ‘You seemed content to endure his visit, my love.’

‘Because he does not threaten my equanimity,’ replied Isabella. ‘Oh, it is difficult to explain precisely how I feel. I am conscious of Sir Seymour’s admiration, but I do not feel
intimidated
by it. Besides, he is such an absurdly eccentric creature, and I found his visit entertaining.’

‘Yes, he always has interesting information to impart.’

This reply, apparently delivered with all seriousness by Harriet, drew a look of amusement and surprise from Isabella but she offered no comment.

‘But why then did you refuse to see Mr Isherwood?’ continued her companion. ‘The poor man was quite desperate to pass on the posy of flowers and compliments from Lord Bramwell, and yet you would not see him.’

‘I cannot condemn Mr Isherwood, but Lord Bramwell is a different matter – and he did not even trouble to deliver his flowers in person.’

Harriet tutted. ‘Uncharitable, Isabella! You know very well that Lord Bramwell was in Brighton; Mr Isherwood said his lordship would have delivered the posy himself if he had been in town.’

‘I suppose even a
nonpareil
like Lord Bramwell cannot be in two places at once,’ she acknowledged, ‘but I am tempted to dislike him from what I have heard.’ Isabella had not told her aunt of Lord Bramwell’s remark about kissing her – it would not be wise when Harriet often entertained the most ridiculous romantic notions about Isabella’s future.

‘Well, you will have the opportunity of discovering more on Friday. We received a card this morning advising that he intends to visit then with his sister.’

‘B – But I did not expect him to call,’ said Isabella, a look of disquiet skimming her features. ‘I thought he was merely indulging in polite conversation.’

‘Well, it appears he was not,’ replied Harriet with an
enigmatic
smile.

In Berkeley Square the following morning, Lord Bramwell’s sister shared Isabella’s vexation.

Lady Julia Cavanagh had arrived in London the previous afternoon, accompanied by her mother. Lady Julia was a petite, raven-haired beauty whose slumbrous dark eyes, full lips and golden skin threatened, according to her mama, to take London by storm. But Lady Julia was as candid as she was lovely and she was singularly unimpressed to discover that her elder brother had arranged this social call.

‘But who is she, Hal?’ she queried, a sliver of annoyance in her voice. ‘I have never heard of Lady Vane and I venture neither has Mama.’

‘She has just recently arrived in London,’ explained her brother, leaning his broad shoulders against the fireplace and watching his sister’s animated features. ‘Any facts about her existence up to that point are unknown – and she seems
determined
it should remain a mystery. All that is known is that she is a widow of four-and-twenty and she is accompanied by her aunt, who is also a widow, and her six-year-old son.’

‘Well, I am sorry she finds herself a widow at such a young age, but what has this to do with me?’ protested Julia. ‘I have no time to oblige a woman who is only anxious to further her social standing.’

‘That is too severe of you, Julia. On the contrary, Lady Vane is unwilling to venture into society much – she has even declined to receive several very eligible gentlemen eager to further their acquaintance. I’m surprised she agreed to receive us, although I admit that I left her little choice.’

Her brown eyes regarded him steadily, amusement now twinkling in their handsome depths. ‘Ah, I begin to understand. Is Lady Vane beautiful?’

‘Exquisitely.’

Julia laughed. ‘Now I see! You wish to further your cause with this paragon and have had the audacity to use me as an excuse.’ She tilted her head and gave him a quizzical look. ‘But this is not your usual style – you have not required assistance in the past with your occasional amours.’

‘And what do you know of my amours, miss?’ asked Hal with an amused look.

‘Only that none of them has been serious,’ she replied frankly. ‘Is Lady Vane so different then?’

‘She is, but I cannot explain why. Our meeting was brief, but she already disapproves of me and yet, in spite of that
disapproval
, I feel compelled to discover more about her—’

‘Naturally, if she is exquisitely beautiful,’ interjected Julia, in a dry voice.

He shook his head. ‘It is not just her beauty, although that is extraordinary; she has an air of diffidence, sadness even, which is elusive and difficult to describe. Lady Vane is not much older than you in years, but her manner is very different – perhaps you will understand when you meet her yourself.’

His sister regarded him thoughtfully. ‘Your description of the lovely Isabella is intriguing, Hal. Very well; I agree to your abominable coercion and will accompany you. At least then you shall not suffer the ignominy of being turned away!’

Hal grinned. ‘As always, your presence will lend me respectable countenance. You are more than passable bedecked in all your London finery, Julia.’ He studied her sprigged muslin dress in an exaggerated manner, eyes brimful of laughter. ‘I suppose I must address the bills for what you and Mama have spent at various modistes and milliners?’

At that moment, Marguerite, The Dowager Countess of Bramwell, entered. She was a tall, graceful woman possessed of thick dark hair like her children, but her own was sprinkled with grey. However, she was one of those fortunate women for whom the passing of years only added to their elegance. She placed an affectionate kiss on her son’s cheek in greeting, smiled and said, ‘Good morning. I am afraid I did not perfectly understand your comment just now, Hal – what particular crime are Julia and I accused of?’