Royal Regard

Chapter Thirty-Three, Part 2

Charlotte stood, almost knocking over the embroidery frame, preparing to tell Lady Allison, as she had everyone but the king, that Bella was not receiving, no matter who the caller thought she was, but Bella grasped Charlotte's wrist.

"No, Charlotte. I have to see her sometime; it may as well be now."

"But you are in mourning, and the only reason she is here is to—"

"I will be in mourning at least a year; I can't shut out everyone all that time. And it is unfair I can make a full retreat against the scandal, and none of the rest of you can."

"But—"

"The duke is her brother, every bit as deserving of her defense as I am yours, and I have more than earned every horrible thing she is about to say, far more than His Grace deserved John's fist to his jaw. At least Allison is a lady and will most likely remain polite."

Charlotte's shoulders squared. "I will not allow her to mistreat you in my home. Corbel, please show Lady Allison into the drawing room, and I will be there directly."

Corbel cleared his throat nervously, "My lady, she asked quite pointedly for a private audience with Lady Huntleigh."

Bella sighed, "I'm sure she has. I will see her in the drawing room, please, in five minutes. I would be grateful if you would have tea sent up. And some of the ginger biscuits. The duke said she has a sweet tooth. Perhaps this may yet be civil. Lady Allison and I were friends not so long ago."

"I will arrange it immediately, my lady."

Charlotte started, "Bella—"

"You cannot protect me from the whole world. I will return before you can finish sorting silks."

Making her way to the drawing room, Bella castigated herself again for Nick's downfall, preparing for the chastisement to come. As she had said to Charlotte several times, Bella might think less of Allison if she didn't defend her brother. Still, that was no comfort in view of the entirely warranted telling-off of which she was about to take the brunt.

When Bella entered the drawing room, Allison rushed over and took up her hands. "Oh, dear Lady Huntleigh—may I still call you Bella?" Before Bella could even nod, as she motioned her guest to the lavender-striped settee and took a seat on a pale-green flocked chair, Allison continued, "And you must call me Allison. We were Bella and Allison before all of this, were we not? I do hope you have recovered from your shocking ordeal. A peer abducting a lady. One can hardly credit it. It is outrageous!"

"Oh, er, quite," Bella said, not sure how to respond.

"Nicky said you were having headaches, and my abigail has the most wonderful tisane. I've brought you a packet, and you are to send word if you need more." She pulled a blue silk drawstring pouch out of her reticule and handed it to Bella. "She won't say what is in it, but it has never failed, and I have the worst megrims. You have nothing but sympathy from me."

Bella dropped it into her lap. "Thank you, my lady. That is very kind. I had assumed you were here to ring a peal over my head."

"What, over Nicky?" Allison dismissed him with a wave of her hand. "Don't be silly. He has no business pretending to be a gentleman at all. I've told him and told him that he must respect your mourning. I wouldn't be here invading your privacy now if it weren't for this remedy. It is quite the best in England."

"I am sure." Bella was sure of many things; foremost at the moment, Allison was not here about a headache cure.

"No, you are better off without my wretched brother. You won't believe the things he has done in the name of 'recovering from his distress,' as though a proper Englishman is ever distressed. My mother told me he was a reprobate, and my eldest brother, too. I wash my hands of him."

Bella found herself twisting the pouch of herbs in her hands, silently beseeching her caller for mercy toward the man at whom Bella would scream, were he in the drawing room. The thought that he might have no one to ease him left her cold.

"Oh, my lady, you must not abandon him. Please. He is in horrible pain, and I hate to think I am the cause. If he has no one to turn to in his grief, it will just break my heart. Please say you will take care of him as a sister should. Please, you mustn't leave him alone with no one to look after him."

Allison turned up her nose. "My brother has plenty of servants to look after him. He hardly needs me. My husband and I should have returned to the country before now, given the social situation, but with the inquiry and all the rest... Once the government is finished totting up the accounts on the front page of the newspaper, my accursed brother will be able to carouse London to his heart's content and the rest of us will go hide on our estates. At least it won't be my money he loses in the stews."

Bella grasped Allison's hand, moving to the loveseat in order to be closer, to make her case more directly.

"Please, Lady Allison. He cannot stay in London. The gossip will ruin him, or the gambling or the drink or the women. You know this is not who he is at heart. You cannot believe he deserves such a lonesome life. Take him with you to your estate, or home to Bristol if he will go. He should be with family. Please."

"There is no chance he will go. He has told me so fifty times. He hates the country and thinks Wellstone is cursed. He finds the gossip a perfect reason to retreat from Polite Society, but no cause to retreat from the rest of London."

Allison placed her hand gently over Bella's, trying to calm her, but Bella only held on tighter, her fingers beginning to shake, eyes welling with tears. For a moment, she even considered going down on her knees. "I have heard stories of his descent into the stews before your brother died, and I daresay you saw it in person. Please, will you try?"

Allison huffed, turning her knees on the sofa, but squeezing Bella's hand in sympathy. "I'm not sure why you care, after everything he's put you through. He is an awful cad, treating you as he has."

Pulling her hand back, Bella stared at the floor, wringing her fingers together in her lap. "Nothing that has happened can be laid at his door, Lady Allison. He is the one wronged. Only through circumstance, you understand, never malice, but the blame belongs to me."

Bella was so busy condemning herself she missed the significance of Allison's small, smug smile.

"Well, if you insist I ensure his wellbeing, Bella, I will—to ease your grief, mind, not his—but he isn't worth one minute of my time, or yours."

"But he is, Lady Allison. He is... he is... everything." Despite her best efforts, the forced-back tears began to fall. "I can't bear to think he might..." She covered her face with her hands until Allison pulled them away, wiping the teardrops from her cheeks with a lace handkerchief that appeared out of nowhere.

"You really must call me Allison. I cannot promise anything, Nicky being the Pigheaded Peer, but I will do my best to convince him to come to Yorkshire with us. Or perhaps he can be convinced to winter on the Continent. Nockham and I had been trying to agree a plan with Henry, now he is finished at Eton. Perhaps a Grand Tour with his uncle. In Italy, Nicky is only the Cold-hearted Conte, not the Dangerous Duke."

She patted Bella on the hand. "Please, take heart. With so many troubles to bear, you must not let Nicky be another one. I will take care of my brother. You take care of yourself."