Page 4 of A Gentleman's Wager

Louisa didn’t seem half so surprised as Bella imagined she ought. She cocked her head to one side, and asked, “Why the whisper?”

Bella grasped her hand. “Come, we can talk of it while you get settled. You’re in the rose room, right by me. I remembered you liked that one.”

They scurried in doors and upstairs ahead of Louisa’s belongings, which were delivered a moment or two later by a couple of Wyndfell’s fieldhands. They settled the trunk at the foot of the bed, then backed away tugging their forelocks.

Bella sank onto the bed as she watched Louisa open the trunk. Two years in the capital had greatly changed her. She had always been petite and delicate, where Bella was more robust and rounded, but London had washed all the colour from her friend’s cheeks, so that she now resembled the porcelain doll she had once treasured.

“That is quite the most hideous gown I have ever seen,” Bella declared as Louisa lifted a vibrant mustard yellow dress from her trunk and bore it to the closet.

“It’s the height of good taste, Bella. Yellow was quite the thing last Season, and there’s every reason to suppose it will remain so for the coming one.”

“Are you sad you’ll miss it?”

A brief flicker of something that might have been regret shone in Louisa’s eyes, which vanished when she blinked. “Not at all. I’ll only miss the start, and the Season’s not nearly so grand as you might imagine. It can be quite dull. One ball is much like another, musicales can seem to go on forever, and everywhere there is such a crush that oft times ladies faint just from the overbearing heat.”

It sounded enchanting. “I should still like to see it.” The only balls Bella had attended had been held at the assembly rooms in Richmond, and they had not been nearly so much fun to attend since Joshua had decreed her to be in the market for a husband. Also, to get there they had to travel in the carriage, and Bella had a profound hatred of that mode of transport. She always felt so cooped.

“Joshua is unrelenting?” Louisa asked.

Bella gave a weary sigh. “He believes I can find a suitable match closer to home.”

“I sense you don’t?”

“Not unless I wish to marry my groom. He’s rather fine to look at, you know.”

Louisa picked up a pair of rolled stockings and gestured with them. “What about the viscount? Is he not an eligible bachelor?”

“Oh, I suppose I hadn’t considered that.” Bella inhaled and let the notion take root. Would he hold their first encounter against her? Would he even recognise her? It had all happened so quickly. He’d surely only got a good look at her back. “Whatever is that?” She pointed at the little coat that Louisa had placed upon the counterpane.

“This. Why it’s a spencer. Don’t tell me that you haven’t seen one,” Louisa said picking it up.

“It looks too small to be of use to anyone but a child.”

“Bella, it’s mine, and it fits perfectly.” She held it against herself. “It’s precisely the right length to sit over the newer style of dresses. Almost everything now is square necked and gathered, so the waist fits right below the bosom. Don’t you ever look at the fashion plates?”

“There hardly seems a need.” Bella stroked her hand over the skirt of her heavy velvet riding habit. The worn pile was familiar to the touch and had seen better days, but she’d had it made to resemble a man’s frock coat, and it was her favourite.

“I can’t believe you’re still wearing that old thing.” Louisa nose wrinkled, and she sneezed. “No, actually, I can.”

They shared a smile, and two years fell easily away, as if this was an ordinary conversation on an ordinary day before Tristan had died, when they had spent almost every day together and been as close as sisters.

“Bella, please tell me you have something less raggedy to wear tomorrow for Lord Marlinscar’s visit, else you’ll hardly make a good impression. I’ve heard he’s quite the exquisite, not to mention a deplorable rake.”

That Bella could well believe considering what she’d seen him doing. “I’ve a thing or two Joshua insisted I have made for when he parades me about.”

“That’s good, since anything I loaned you would be much too short.” Louisa lifted another dress from her trunk. This one a more tasteful lilac, the bodice barely three inches across from neckline to waist. Never mind the length, Louisa’s dresses were unlikely to contain her bosom.

Louisa hung the dress, but then turned to Bella, brows cocked quizzically. “Something’s amiss. It’s entirely unlike you to be this quiet on a topic.”

“What is it you expect me to say?”

“A good deal more about Lord Marlinscar for one. I point out his eligibility, and you… well, you haven’t said anything, and that’s strange, because you always have an opinion, and you always share it. Have you perchance met him already, and determined he’s wholly unsuitable, much like Colonel Hardaker and Mr Gaukroger?”

“Don’t forget misters Lumb and Cockroft too. There’s no way I could wed any of those four.”

“But Lord Marlinscar?”

Bella fanned away the remark. “Why would he even be interested?”