An Innocent Proposal

“Then let us be thankful that, for James’s sake and my own, I am not a gambler,” she said, “otherwise nothing would be done.”

She frowned, suddenly thoughtful, thinking of all the painted and gaudily dressed ladies she had seen at Lady Bricknell’s house. “My biggest problem is what to wear. I do not possess any fashionable gowns, and heaven forbid I should be seen wearing the cream one I travelled up from Surrey in—the one I was wearing when I went in search of James last night—which is plain and deplorably out of fashion. All my other dresses are at Bierlow, most of them faded and mended anyway, so they would not do either, and I cannot possibly afford a new one. It is imperative that I make an impression.”

“Perhaps I can help there. My sister Amelia is about your size, I should think, and has more gowns than she knows what to do with. I’ll see what I can do.”

Louisa smiled gratefully. “Oh, Timothy, would she mind?”

He grinned. “No. If I know my woolly-headed sister she’d not even notice their disappearance if I took them without her knowing.”

“Oh, no,” Louisa said quickly, shocked that Timothy might do just that. “You mustn’t do that. You must ask her properly, even though she might refuse.”

In the midst of this grave situation a twinkle came into his eyes. “I think I can answer for my sister. I promise she will be only too pleased to lend you anything you might need. In fact, because of her fondness for James, which never ceases to amaze me considering his unappealing habits,” he said, not unkindly, “she’ll look on it as a pleasure.”

“Thank you,” Louisa said, her expression serious, her eyes troubled as she realised that Timothy had now become her ally as well as her friend. “I want to shine, Timothy. I have to dazzle Lord Dunstan. He has to want me enough to pay me four thousand guineas.”

Louisa’s face was heartbreaking in its hope, causing Timothy to marvel at her spirit. How he wished he could make her change her mind about going ahead with this madcap plan, but he knew her well, knew how stubborn she could be, and how difficult to dissuade once her mind was made up. It seemed to him that she was as blinkered as any carthorse, refusing to see, or even contemplate, anything but a satisfactory outcome to her forthcoming visit to Dunstan House.

“If you insist on going ahead with this ludicrous plan of yours, then we shall see to it that Lord Dunstan is unable to resist you.”

It was with immense relief to Louisa that James returned in sober mood and had no objection to their all going to St James’s Park for the afternoon. In fact, he welcomed the opportunity to get away from the confines of the house, where brooding on his situation would only make it a thousand times worse.

The park was lovely and full of people, some strolling whilst others gathered in clusters to gossip. There were swarms of rosy-cheeked, excited children playing all manner of games, and pretty young girls flirting with young bloods and off-duty soldiers. An abundance of multicoloured flowers in beds and borders added a vivid splash of colour to the park, and the grass, where people lolled about, was like soft green velvet. Fallow deer roamed free and were a constant delight to the children, in particular, who loved to feed them. They were so tame that they took bits of food gently out of their hands.

The three of them watched the soldiers, resplendent in their colourful red and blue uniforms, parading at Horse Guards, which was one of the main attractions of the park during the afternoons. Afterwards Timothy bought some oranges from a hawker, which they ate as they strolled towards the northern boundary of the Mall, where they purchased mugs of fresh warm milk, drawn from the cows tethered in a line to posts.

James continued to be in a morose mood, and, while Timothy tried to coax him out of it, Louisa wandered down to the edge of the lake to watch the ducks swimming and diving on the sparkling surface. Startled when she heard someone call out her name, she looked up and saw Sir Charles Meredith advancing towards her.

Always in the forefront of fashion, and with a high sense of style, he was sporting an extraordinary scarlet three-piece suit, the buttonholes of his coat heavy with gold embroidery. His jabot was frothy and elaborate, his cuffs beautiful, and his white silk hose, rising from diamond-buckled shoes, fitted tightly over well-muscled calves to his knees. He carried a small beaver hat, and, with his bobbed wig, he looked like an exotic tropical bird.

Although they had met only briefly at Bricknell House the evening before, it had been long enough for her to make an assessment and form her own opinion of him, despite Lord Dunstan and James, which was one of dislike; she detected a good deal of craft and guile about the man which she found off-putting.

His eyes roved in arrogant appreciation from her hair to her face, to the slender column of her neck, her shoulders and her breasts. The look she found insolent, causing her indignation to rise, but when he favoured her with such a charming, engaging smile, his teeth flashing white as they caught the sun, she suddenly found it impossible to be rude to him and melted a little, returning his smile. His very look made it plain to her that he desired her unashamedly, and, in her present confused state, she was ready to find comfort in any kind of positive feeling.

“Good Lord! Miss Divine! So it is you,” he enthused as he joined her, bowing with an elaborate flourish and a smile. “What a surprise. You can’t believe what a pleasure it is for me to see you again, and so soon. Who would have thought it?”

“Who indeed!” smiled Louisa.

“My luck’s certainly in. It is fortunate for me that I find you all alone,” he said in a lazy drawl.

“Not quite, Sir Charles,” she said, looking to where James and Timothy stood. They were so heavily engrossed in conversation that, as yet, they were not aware that Sir Charles had approached her.

Sir Charles followed her gaze and scowled, but he quickly ignored them and fixed his gaze on Louisa’s face once more, his countenance restored to good humour. “You look ravishing. Damn me if I can remember when I last saw a prettier face than yours.”

“Oh, I’m sure you can if you try,” Louisa said, her wonderful amber eyes filled with wry amusement, noting that his voice lacked sincerity, and that he spoke with well-regulated practice.

“It is the kind of face that is capable of driving a man to distraction. Ever since I saw you last night, I confess I’ve been thinking about you—a great deal, in fact—and now here you are.”

“I’m sure you’ll soon get over it.” There was no doubt about it, she thought with cynicism, not deceived or beguiled by his easy chatter. He was dazzling, with a lying, flattering tongue in his head.

He raised one languid eyebrow. “You’re having a pleasant stroll, I hope?”

“Yes, thank you. Very pleasant.”

He glanced towards James. “Fraser looks down in the mouth, I see, although the poor chap has a right to be after his rotten luck last night. He lost heavily to Lord Dunstan, I believe.” His gaze settled on her once more, his face lustful, with a certain excitement in his eyes and an air of lecherous anticipation emanating from them. “If it prevents him entertaining you in the manner to which you are accustomed, might I offer my services—? When you can escape his watchful eye, of course. Nothing would please me more.”

“Thank you. I’m flattered. But that won’t be necessary, Sir Charles,” she said, more reluctant than ever to divulge that James was her brother and not her lover, beginning to think the subterfuge accorded her some protection against men like Sir Charles Meredith. “I have not yet grown so tired of him that I would willingly leave him for another. You do understand, I hope?”

“Then he is fortunate. Such devotion is a rarity indeed in our society. But he neglects you, I see. Any man who can neglect such a beautiful creature is a fool.”

“Most men are fools, are they not, Sir Charles?” Louisa countered.

Sir Charles’s eyes focused narrowly on hers. “Ah! You have wit too, I see. I would steal you myself if you were not already spoken for,” he said softly, with a sly smile and a lowering of one heavy eyelid that constituted a wink. “So take care that you do not drive me to distraction, otherwise you will learn how far my desires can carry me—Mr Fraser or no.”

Louisa gave a delicate lift to her brows. “Are you always so persistent, Sir Charles?”

“Always,” he said as he began to accompany her back to where James and Timothy were still deep in conversation. “You think I’m insufferable, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she admitted, unable to prevent a little smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Quite.”

He was not at all disturbed or offended by her honest reply. “Well, I can be quite a charming and delightful chap when you get to know me. I have an appalling reputation, I know, but I would ask you not to listen to gossip, Miss Divine. You shouldn’t believe everything. I’m not ignorant of what’s said about me, and I’m afraid I have been dreadfully maligned.”

She laughed lightly. “Then I’m sorry to put a dampener on your ego, Sir Charles, but until last night, when we met in the doorway at Bricknell House, I had never heard of you before in my life.”

He sighed regretfully. “That’s what comes of spending too much time in the country. It stultifies one’s mind and leads to boredom.”

“Possibly. But you can set your mind at rest,” she said, looking up at him sideways, meaningfully. “I have never been one to listen to gossip—only facts.”

Neither of them saw a group of four people coming towards them: a man, two women, and a young boy. Having just replied to something amusing Sir Charles had said, which had brought a smile to her lips and a sparkle to her eyes, Louisa suddenly noticed their approach, and her smile froze as her gaze became fixed on them.

One of the women, whom she thought to be in her mid-thirties, was handsome and quite tall, her gloved hand placed lightly on the gentleman’s arm. The other woman Louisa saw was much younger, still a girl, in fact, perhaps sixteen or seventeen years old. Her hair was dark and arranged in ringlets which bounced delightfully when she moved her head, and she was extremely pretty, with a vivacity and freshness to her manner. The young boy, who she surmised must be the older woman’s son, sported a shock of dark brown curls and was happily skipping along beside them. But it was the gentleman who caught Louisa’s eyes and held them, for it was Lord Dunstan.

Both parties stopped abruptly, leaving several paces between them, Lord Dunstan’s gaze barely resting on Louisa before sliding to her companion, his eyes so cold she thought they could annihilate a man.

Louisa noticed how the older woman paled and drew in her breath quickly, her hand rising to her throat as her eyes were drawn towards Sir Charles, as if seeing a ghost. Lord Dunstan’s features froze, and taking the woman’s arm, after throwing Louisa a glance which was like a poison dart, he abruptly stepped off the path and began walking away, calling sharply to the boy and the young lady to follow, but not before Louisa had seen his eyes darken with anger and contempt.

She watched them go, noticing how the young woman paused and looked at Sir Charles with surprise, staring at him openly and with all the innocence of her tender years, clearly dazzled for the first time in her life by a supremely handsome man, allowing the corners of her inviting mouth to twitch slightly, and looking curiously exposed as she caught her breath and flushed a bright pink. Her eyes were as big as saucers and held far too much eloquence as she gazed at him wondrously, until she responded to Lord Dunstan’s sharp order and reluctantly tore her eyes from his.

She had looked so startled that Louisa was convinced she could not have uttered a word if her life had depended on it. Casting a sideways glance at Sir Charles, she saw his full pink mouth turn up in one corner in a grin, and beneath his heavy, drooping lids his eyes were filled with amusement and idle speculation as he watched her hurry away.

Filled with confusion by Lord Dunstan’s show of rudeness, Louisa was puzzled by his behaviour and that of the older woman, but recalling the intense dislike Lord Dunstan so clearly felt for Sir Charles, which he had made evident on both occasions she had met him, she thought he must have good reason to cut him in public so deliberately. However, she thought, with some regret, considering what she had in mind where Lord Dunstan was concerned, it was unfortunate that he had seen her with Sir Charles Meredith; no doubt it would not help her cause and he would draw his own conclusions and be reluctant to have anything to do with her, despite what he had said to her at Mr Brewster’s bookshop.

In an attempt to dispel the coldness that the brief encounter with Lord Dunstan had caused her, Louisa smiled up at Sir Charles, beginning to walk on. He fell into step beside her.

“I saw the way the young lady looked at you, Sir Charles, which you must have observed for yourself. It would seem you have an admirer, and I suspect it amuses you to have a flirtatious exchange with such an innocent young girl.” She spoke lightly, an innocent herself, unprepared for Sir Charles’s reply, which her untutored mind regarded as obscene.

“I agree she is extremely pretty—and ripe for more than a mere glance. The crux of the matter is, though, that she is Dunstan’s sister, and, as you will have observed for yourself, he and I are not the best of friends. However, it is such a waste to keep that appealing little virgin tucked away at his home in Sussex.”

Louisa stared at him, shocked that he should exhibit such an unrestrained interest in such a young girl. “If she is to remain in that condition, then in my opinion I think it best that she remains there, Sir Charles,” she chided, “under her brother’s watchful eye and away from the rakes and debauchees of London—away from such destructive, immoral influences as yourself, for it is clear to me that her innocence and naivety only adds to her attraction in your eyes.”

He laughed lightly, a lewd, lascivious gleam in his eyes. “You are right, I admit it. The sight of so much innocence excites me—makes me imagine those pleasures and sensations, such as Miss Dunstan can never have experienced, being aroused by me. I find the aura of pure virginity combined with youth and beauty irresistible. And the seemingly unobtainable is always the most desirable to me, my dear Miss Divine—as is the case with yourself,” he said huskily as his eyes devoured her soft lips.

“But if I wanted to sample the innocent delights of the adorable Miss Dunstan I would not be put off by her brother,” he went on. “No, indeed I would not,” he said without preamble, quietly, firmly and convincingly, his eyes following the retreating figure of the alluring young woman, who turned her head briefly to look back once more.

There was a hard gleam in his eyes, his gaze speculative and predatory as he watched her disappear amongst a group of trees, along with the other members of her group. His words caused Louisa to swallow down a sudden rush of revulsion. She observed the way his eyes followed the young woman, and it troubled her and created a feeling of unease. It was an incident she was to recall at a later date, but for now she put it out of her mind. Quickening her stride, for she was suddenly eager to be done with his company, she drew a shaky breath.

“What on earth have you done, Sir Charles, that makes Lord Dunstan scowl at you so whenever the two of you meet?”

Louisa noted that suddenly he was no longer his usual, smiling, convivial self, that a seriousness had descended on him as he fixed his unreadable gaze straight ahead.

“He bears me a personal grudge—and it is I who should be doing the scowling, Miss Divine. I am guilty of nothing where that gentleman is concerned. Any wrongdoing was done by him, not by me.”

“Why? What on earth has he done that is so dreadful?”

His face became grim, his eyes hard, and there was something so terrible in their fixed, unnatural brightness that Louisa felt her throat tighten. He spoke slowly, quietly and deliberately, each word enunciated.

“He cheated me out of the woman I was to have married.”

“Oh! Then should it not be you who bears the grudge, Sir Charles?”

He grimaced, seeming not to hear her as he became immersed in some unpleasant thought. His lips compressed and his gloved fingers closed on the brim of his hat, crushing the edge, leaving Louisa in no doubt as to the depth of hatred that existed between himself and Lord Dunstan.

“I-In what way did he cheat you?” Louisa asked nervously, for Sir Charles Meredith no longer resembled the man of a few moments before, all trace of the charming rake he portrayed to the world having vanished. The expression in his eyes had become ugly, his features contorted almost beyond recognition. The expression was fleeting and soon passed, but it left Louisa with a sinking feeling and a sense of regret that she had unwittingly prodded a wound that was still raw, seeping and extremely painful for both men.

“He married her himself when my back was turned—when I was unable to do anything about it. But it backfired on him miserably, which was no more than he deserved,” he uttered fiercely. “However, it is all a long time ago and in the past.”

“But not forgotten by either of you, it would seem?”

“No, indeed. He did me a grave injustice and the day will come when I shall pay the almighty Alistair Dunstan back in full for what he did to me, Miss Divine. Some day,” he whispered, with an undertone of such savage force that Louisa fought a shiver of fear. “You’ll see.”

Louisa’s curiosity was sharpened and she wanted to know more—there was so much he had not told her, but she was not to learn anything further about what had occurred between Sir Charles and Lord Dunstan, for at that moment James and Timothy, displeased to see her talking to Sir Charles, came to reclaim her.

Trembling but managing a smile, shaken by the brief insight Sir Charles had given her into the feud that existed between himself and Lord Dunstan, an insight that left her feeling decidedly uneasy, she watched as he politely and abruptly excused himself to Timothy and James. Her brother was coldly contemptuous of the man’s frank admiration of her. “I do not like that man, Louisa,” James muttered, scowling at Sir Charles’s receding figure as he swaggered away. “You will do well to steer clear of him in the future.”

“Yes, I intend to,” she replied absently, a memory of the cold, savage look of vengeance she had seen in Sir Charles’s eyes flickering in her mind. Their conversation had left her with a feeling of oppression and horror, and she experienced a certain surprise at his severe accusation against Lord Dunstan. Was it true? she asked herself. Had Lord Dunstan married the woman Sir Charles would have married himself? If this was the case, then surely the lady concerned would not have married Lord Dunstan had she not preferred him to Sir Charles?

But Sir Charles had revealed that the marriage had gone miserably wrong for Lord Dunstan, and with that she could only conclude—as Timothy had suggested—that it had broken down and his wife had left him for someone else. She tried to envisage what both Lord Dunstan and Sir Charles must have suffered, and yet she had a distinct feeling that Lord Dunstan’s suffering had been the greatest. She did not know enough of what had transpired between them, nor did she know either of them well enough to defend one’s conduct against the other, but having just had an insight into Sir Charles’s character, which seemed to have a tendency to evil, she had no wish to know more.

His manner, his way of speaking and his countenance she found repugnant in every degree. It had been enough to tell her that he did not possess any of the virtues that constituted a gentleman, and that he had many years of idleness and vice to atone for.

James moped about the house in a state of deep depression as Louisa began preparing herself for the unpleasant occasion of dining at Dunstan House. She managed to persuade him to put off fetching the deeds to his estate from Surrey and presenting them to Lord Dunstan to pay off his debt until the following week, in order to give her time to retrieve his IOU.

She reminded herself that if what Timothy had said was true—that Lord Dunstan attracted women like a magnet—then after her sharp rebuff at Mr Brewster’s bookshop, and seeing her with Sir Charles Meredith in St James’s Park, he might be angry and no longer interested in her.

For her plan to succeed she must make him want her—want her to such an extent that he would be prepared to agree to her terms to possess her. And as the time drew near for her to ready herself for the evening in front of her—perhaps the most important evening of her life—apprehension began to give way to panic.

She was undecided about which gown to wear, for Timothy had presented her with three to choose from, as well as several items of undergarment, telling her that his sister had been only too delighted to be of help.

He had told Amelia that Louisa had arrived in London having absent-mindedly left her finest dresses behind in Surrey, and was mortified, on finding herself invited to an important event, to discover she had nothing to wear and unwilling to go to the expense of buying something new. Amelia had been only too happy to loan her some gowns.

Louisa finally settled for one of deep crimson satin, by far the most alluring of the three. Its vivid colour and low-cut décolletage would be more in keeping with the occasion and the people she would be mixing with than the other two, which were in pastel shades and rather modest in design. She declined the wearing of even the smallest hoop to lift the dress, preferring instead to let the skirt fall softly from the waist.

At first she had balked at the thought of accepting the clothes, but realising she had no choice, if she wished to succeed with Lord Dunstan, and that she was in no position to turn charity away, she began to dress, feeling as she did so her last remnants of pride melt like the morning mist beneath the sun.

To add to the part, but without too much artifice, she applied just a little powder to her cheeks and a little salve to her lips, and, with skilful fingers, Alice helped her arrange her newly washed hair in an elaborate creation of glossy waves and curls, with three heavy ringlets dangling at the back, one of them resting on her bare shoulder.

When she was ready she surveyed her appearance in the full-length mirror and saw her radiance reflected. She barely recognised herself, feeling transformed by the gown’s magnificence, and experiencing a sensuous pleasure in its satin softness. She flushed at her image. The gown, with its elbow-length sleeves, was bold and quite dramatic and extremely daring, its firm-fitting bodice cut low, and the fullness of the skirt emphasising her tiny waist and falling in luxurious shining folds to her slippered feet. She suspected it had not belonged to Timothy’s quiet, sheltered sister at all but to another, more worldly lady of his acquaintance, of whom she would prefer to remain in ignorance. However, she would for ever hold the lady in her debt if she managed to succeed in seducing Lord Dunstan.

It was certainly not the type of gown she would normally have chosen to wear, she thought, sighing as she turned from the full-length mirror, but if she was to play a harlot she might as well look the part.

They were to travel to Dunstan House in Timothy’s carriage and on being told by Alice of its arrival she took a deep breath and left her room, her skirts sweeping the stairs as she went down. She saw both her brother and Timothy waiting for her in the hall and was fully aware of the impact her appearance would have on them. With Alice’s help she had been transformed from the pretty little country girl her brother had never troubled to look at into a striking young woman it would be difficult for anyone to keep their eyes off.

When James and Timothy saw her their eyes opened wide in sheer amazement—Timothy’s with undisguised appraisal and James’s with shocked disapproval. He was unable to believe that the beautiful, sophisticated creature descending the stairs—showing enough of her bosom as to be positively indecent, and smiling only as one of London’s social butterflies knew how to—was his sister.