Scandalous Miss Brightwells [Book 1-4]

“Well, what is it, Thea? You look shocked.”

“He’s just executed a very elegant bow. Surely you saw that, Aunt Minerva?”

“Mr Granville bowing at me?” Her voice was a little breathless. She drew herself up. “Why, when will that man find the courage to do what’s been in his heart these long weeks?”

“Not quite two, Aunt Minerva,” Thea reminded her, though her mind was on quite another matter. For there was Mr Grayling, staring at her from across the room. And if she weren’t mistaken, there was a look of both longing and something else. Anger? No, how could she interpret it as that when, if anyone had a right to be angry, it was she?

Only devastation would be a more apt description. What had Thea done to warrant such a change in attitude? Her body felt both hot and then immediately chilled. Was there something wrong with her that she didn’t know about?

But then he nodded. Yes, she was sure that he nodded and indicated the door to outside.

It was an invitation, surely, and Thea’s heart was pounding as she hastily made her excuses to her aunt that she’d be back shortly.

Inveigling her way into a large party just leaving, she was soon through the French doors and in the moonlit darkness, hurrying quickly around the side of the building and into the shadows. Never in her life could she have imagined risking her reputation like this, but the alternative—marriage to Dr Horne—meant she’d do whatever she had to in order to find out from the man she truly loved exactly how matters stood.

“Miss Brightwell.”

She swung round at the voice that issued behind her from near a large, thick-trunked tree but instead of being filled with joyful excitement, she shrank back. Oh dear Lord, no. How had she stepped into such a trap?

“How delightful to find you here. And all alone? Waiting for me, I suspect. After that convincing little show of coyness, you almost led me to believe you found my company repugnant. Yet here you are, waiting for me.”

Thea put her hands up to his chest to push Mr Bramley away, for he’d stepped forward, his arms outstretched as if he truly meant to embrace her. The effrontery was shocking. And yet, she realised she’d put herself in this situation. She had no one but herself to blame and she must call on all her resources to extricate herself.

“I do find your company repugnant, Mr Bramley!” she hissed. “Unhand me this instant!”

“You are very fierce in your desire to be rid of me, Miss Brightwell.” Thanks to the slash of light from the brightly illuminated windows above, Thea could see his displeasure was more genuine than merely for show. His eyes were dark with more than just brooding displeasure, his mouth a taut, hard line. In fact his whole attitude was combative; as if he were ready to pummel Thea for every slight he’d sustained, perceived or otherwise. However, he merely gripped her wrists. “Y

our cousin didn’t find me repugnant. In fact, that flirtatious little trollop, Lady Quamby, happened to find my attentions distinctly more appealing than those of her husband, my uncle. She led me a pretty dance and then betrayed me, you know. That’s why I’d hoped another Brightwell might show remorse.” His voice hardened. “And if not remorse, then atonement.”

“Atonement? What kind of atonement?” Thea gasped before she could stop the naïve question. No, she really had no desire to know when she needed to escape from this hateful situation and put as much distance between Mr Bramley and herself as she could.

“What kind of atonement?” he repeated, pulling her closer to him and tucking her head beneath his chin in a parody of affection. “Well, if you came with a fortune I could bear the idea of being saddled with you for a life sentence. You’re decorative and I’d enjoy tutoring such a wife in the arts at which your worldly cousin Antoinette excelled.” He sighed, unexpectedly releasing her and with a shuddering gasp, Thea staggered back a step and was about to turn tail and run when he went on with simply too much provocation, “Alas, you bring no benefits to any man who needs to consider their long-term future, which clearly is why Mr Grayling has dropped you like a hot potato. I believe he thought your pretty face was accompanied by a portion, no matter how meagre. Perhaps your aunt or your cousins led him to believe such was the case and then he discovered the truth. You’ll have to ask him that.”

“How dare you!” With a cry, Thea whipped back her hand and dealt him a stinging blow across the face as the tears threatened to flow. “Antoinette and Fanny were right. There is not one single redeeming thing about you, Mr Bramley! Now do not try to stop me from leaving and do not even think to ask me to dance should the occasion arise.”

“Oh, I had ideas that were a lot more exciting than dancing. Good lord, Miss Brightwell, what a little termgant you are!” Touching his cheek where she’d struck him, his obvious shock was replaced by amusement. Thea picked up her skirts and ran as fast as she could, back towards the French doors through which she’d come, his mocking laughter and the words, “I have long looked forward to the day a Brightwell begs me for mercy and I believe it is nearly upon me. You have only whetted my appetite, dear Madam!” ringing in her ears.

Once inside Thea hurried to a less populated corner of the ballroom where she stood alone for a moment, unable to stop shaking.

“Whatever’s the matter, Thea?”

Immediately Fanny glided over to her side, her calm concern like a balm for Thea, who was then able to take a deep breath and draw back her shoulders and behave with the dignity current circumstances required.

“I…I was such a fool,” she whispered, trying not to cry and gratefully taking the dainty muslin handkerchief Fanny offered her. “I saw Mr Grayling look at me like he wanted to tell me something, so I went outside. Only, there was that awful Mr Bramley instead.” She hiccupped as another fit of trembling seized her and Fanny marched her out of the view of several interested spectators, tripping over a young man with a florid complexion and bulbous eyes who looked as if he’d never been so entertained. Thea nearly expired on the spot at having spoken so openly of her indiscretions, but as her time in Bath was nearly at an end, as were her hopes for any possibility of a future filled with happiness, or even punctuated with brief patches of it, she told herself fiercely that she didn’t care.

“Now sit.” Her cousin pushed her down onto a velvet-upholstered banquette and caught the attention of a passing footman, from whom she procured two glasses of champagne at the same time as requesting that her brother, Mr Brightwell, be summoned. “Drink this, Thea dearest,” she ordered. “Yes, don’t mind the spluttering. A bit of fizz is always guaranteed to ease a dire situation.” When Thea had finished her glass, Fanny immediately replaced it with the second, even though Thea protested that she’d be quite dizzy in the head if she drank any more, but as Bertram then appeared and Fanny went into quite a huddle with the young man, Thea was left to stare at the nearly full glass. Deciding that the first had gone down rather easily, she thought that if the second could do an even better job of drowning her sorrows, she might as well do as Cousin Fanny ordered.

But the moment Fanny sat down beside her and focussed a look full of sympathy upon her, Thea promptly dissolved into tears. “I want to go home.” She put her head into her hands. “I thought that coming to Bath would be so exciting and that I’d enjoy opportunities I’d never have had if I spent my days attending to Aunt Minerva, but now I see what I should have seen before. That money counts for everything!”

Fanny patted Thea’s shoulder. “And so does a great deal of cunning. Now, I’ve sent my brother on an errand but Cousin Bertram will be back in our midst soon enough and then we shall all return home. I’ll arrange for a lovely and calming posset when you’re safely tucked up in bed, and hopefully this terrible night won’t haunt you beyond the witching hour.” Her voice gentled. “Hush Thea, you’re so much sweeter and deserving of a kind and loyal husband than I am, but I’ve always been mindful of the dues I must pay for having secured such unlooked-for happiness. Fenton is a treasure and it’s my duty to ensure others—such as you—find similar joy in life.” She squeezed Thea’s hand and her pert, beautiful face was surprisingly tender. “Trust me, Thea, to do whatever is within my power to see you find it. If there’s one thing you can depend upon, it’s that I keep my word.”

“If there’s one thing you can depend upon, it’s that I keep my word,” Bertram muttered as he made his way unsteadily down the front steps and around the side. The stables would not be far but he had to be quick if he were to do as Fanny suggested. Each time he encountered Cousin Thea’s lovelorn eyes and observed yet another dip in her spirits he felt somehow responsible. Of course, his plan would have been perfectly marvellous had the odious George Bramley not spoiled everything with his malicious public remarks, which had all but made it quite clear to Mr Grayling that he’d been duped and that Thea were as hearty and robust as, well…Miss Huntingdon, with whom Bertram had observed Mr Grayling appeared to be on increasingly familiar terms.

Well, Fanny’s little plan had merit too, he was prepared to conceded, if only to further the far more cunning plan he, Bertram, intended to properly put in place.

Once he’d found Mr Grayling’s groom, telling him his master had no more need of his services this evening, Bertram headed inside.

His sisters—and Thea, of course—would be delighted with him, he decided as he rubbed shoulders later that night with the other young bucks who were challenging each other to ridiculous wagers in the billiards room.