Four In Hand (Regencies 2)

And so the plan progressed.

For Arabella, the distraction of Sir Ralph came at an opportune time in her juggling of Sir Humphrey and Mr. Stone. It formed no part of her plans for either of these gentlemen to become too particular. And while her sober and earnest consideration of their suits had, she knew, stunned and puzzled Lord Denbigh, who watched with a still sceptical eye, her flirtation with Sir Ralph had brought a strange glint to his hazel orbs.

———

In truth, Hugo had been expecting Arabella to flirt outrageously with her court in an att

empt to make him jealous and force a declaration. He had been fully prepared to sit idly by, watching her antics from the sidelines with his usual sleepily amused air, waiting for the right moment to further her seduction. But her apparent intention to settle for a loveless marriage had thrown him. It was not a reaction he had expected. Knowing what he did of Arabella, he could not stop himself from thinking what a waste it would be. True, as the wife of a much older man, she was likely to be even more receptive to his own suggestions of a discreet if illicit relationship. But the idea of her well-endowed charms being bratishly enjoyed by either of her ageing suitors set his teeth on edge. Her sudden pursuit of Sir Ralph Keighly, in what he was perceptive enough to know was not her normal style, seriously troubled him, suggesting as it did some deeper intent. He wondered whether she knew what she was about. The fact that she continued to encourage Keighly despite Twyford’s clear disapproval further increased his unease.

Arabella, sensing his perturbation, continued to tread the difficult path she had charted, one eye on him, the other on her guardian, encouraging Sir Ralph with one hand while using the other to hold back Sir Humphrey and Mr. Stone. As she confessed to her sisters one morning, it was exhausting work.

Little by little, she gained ground with Sir Ralph, their association camouflaged by her sisters’ ploys. On the way back to the knot of their Mends, having satisfactorily twirled around Lady Summerhill’s ballroom, Arabella and Sir Ralph were approached by a little lady, all in brown.

Sir Ralph stiffened.

The unknown lady blushed. “How do you do?” she said, taking in both Arabella and Sir Ralph in her glance. “I’m Harriet Jenkins,” she explained helpfully to Arabella, then, turning to Sir Ralph, said, “Hello, Ralph,” in quite the most wistful tone Arabella had ever heard.

Under Arabella’s interested gaze, Sir Ralph became tongue-tied. He perforce bowed over the small hand held out to him and managed to say, “Mr. Jenkins’s estates border mine.”

Arabella’s eyes switched to Harriet Jenkins. “My father,” she supplied.

Sir Ralph suddenly discovered someone he had to exchange a few words with and precipitately left them. Arabella looked down into Miss Jenkins’s large eyes, brown, of course, and wondered. “Haveyou lately come to town, Miss Jenkins?”

Harriet Jenkins drew her eyes from Sir Ralph’s departing figure and dispassionately viewed the beauty before her. What she saw in the frank hazel eyes prompted her to reply, “Yes. I was…bored at home. So my father suggested I come to London for a few weeks. I’m staying with my aunt, Lady Cottesloe.”

Arabella was only partly satisfied with this explanation. Candid to a fault, she put the question in hermind. “Pardon me, Miss Jenkins, but are you and Sir Ralph…?”

Miss Jenkins’s wistfulness returned. “No. Oh, you’re right in thinking I want him. But Ralph has other ideas. I’ve known him from the cradle, you see. And I suppose familiarity breeds contempt.” Suddenly realizing to whom she was speaking, she blushed and continued, “Not that I could hope to hold a candle to the London beauties, of course.”

Her suspicions confirmed, Arabella merely laughed and slipped an arm through Miss Jenkins’s. “Oh, I shouldn’t let that bother you, my dear.” As she said the words, it occurred to her that, if anything, Sir Ralph was uncomfortable and awkward when faced with beautiful women, as evidenced by his behaviour with either herself or Amanda. It was perfectly possible that some of his apparent conceit would drop away when he felt less threatened; for instance, in the presence of Miss Jenkins.

Miss Jenkins had stiffened at Arabella’s touch and her words. Then, realizing the kindly intent behind them, she relaxed. “Well, there’s no sense in deceiving myself. I suppose I shouldn’t say so, but Ralph and I were in a fair way to being settled before he took this latest notion of looking about before he made up his mind irrevocably. I sometimes think it was simply fear of tying the knot that did it.”

“Very likely,” Arabella laughingly agreed as she steered Miss Jenkins in the direction of her sisters.

“My papa was furious and said I should give him up. But I convinced him to let me come to London, to see how things stood. Now, I suppose, I may as well go home.”

“Oh, on no account should you go home yet awhile, Miss Jenkins!” said Arabella, a decided twinkle in her eye. “May I call you Harriet? Harriet, I’d like you to meet my sisters.”

———

The advent of Harriet Jenkins caused a certain amount of reworking of the Twinnings’ plan for Sir Ralph. After due consideration, she was taken into their confidence and willingly joined the small circle of conspirators. In truth, her appearance relieved Arabella’s mind of a nagging worry over how she was to let Sir Ralph down after Amanda accepted Mr. Minchbury, who, under the specific guidance of Lizzie, was close to popping the question. Now, all she had to do was to play the hardened flirt and turn Sir Ralph’s bruised ego into Harriet’s tender care. All in all, things were shaping up nicely.

However, to their dismay, the Twinnings found that Mrs. Crowbridge was not yet vanquished. The news of her latest ploy was communicated to them two days later, at Beckenham, where they had gone to watch a balloon ascent. The intrepid aviators had yet to arrive at the field, so the three Twinnings had descended from their carriage and, together with the Misses Crowbridge and Miss Jenkins, were strolling elegantly about the field, enjoying the afternoon sunshine and a not inconsiderable amount of male attention. It transpired that Mrs. Crowbridge had invited Sir Ralph to pay a morning call and then, on the slightest of pretexts, had left him alone with Amanda for quite twenty minutes. Such brazen tactics left them speechless. Sir Ralph, to do him justice, had not taken undue advantage.

“He probably didn’t have time to work out the odds against getting Arabella versus the benefits of Amanda,” said Sarah with a grin. “Poor man! I can almost pity him, what with Mrs. Crowbridge after him as well.”

All the girls grinned but their thoughts quickly returned to their primary preoccupation. “Yes, but,” said Lizzie, voicing a fear already in both Sarah’s and Arabella’s minds, “if Mrs. Crowbridge keeps behaving like this, she might force Sir Ralph to offer for Amanda by tricking him into compromising her.”

“I’m afraid that’s only too possible,” agreed Harriet. “Ralph’s very gullible.” She shook her head in such a deploring way that Arabella and Sarah were hard put to it to smother their giggles.

“Yes, but it won’t do,” said Amanda, suddenly. “I know my mother. She’ll keep on and on until she succeeds. You’ve got to think of some way of…of removing Sir Ralph quickly.”

“For his sake as well as your own,” agreed Harriet. “The only question is, how?”

Silence descended while this conundrum revolved in their minds. Further conversation on the topic was necessarily suspended when they were joined by a number of gentlemen disinclined to let the opportunity of paying court to such a gaggle of very lovely young ladies pass by. As His Grace of Twyford’s curricle was conspicuously placed among the carriages drawn up to the edge of the field, the behaviour of said gentlemen remained every bit as deferential as within the confines of Almack’s, despite the sylvan setting.

Mr. Mallard was the first to reach Lizzie’s side, closely followed by Mr. Swanston and Lord Brookfell.