Now that she had received the note from Slade, her focus on the book she had been reading was lost. Bella glanced through the magazine, noting some of the newer fashions. She needed a new pelisse and wanted something in dark navy wool. She flipped a page and focused on the shoes that matched with some dresses. A pair of mustard yellow shoes struck her fancy. She tried to imagine a dress that might enhance them, other than the green creation that they had been matched within the magazine—which she thought ugly. Bella liked the color for shoes but could not see herself wearing that color near her face. Still, it was unusual. “Mayhap a navy or similar color could work,” she mused out loud, thinking to discuss it with Madame Trousseau when she arrived.
“Oh, there you are!” her mother said, entering her parlor and picking up the stitchery she had discarded in a basket earlier. “I see you are looking throughLa Belle, as I asked. Have you found anything?”
“I thought that a navy pelisse would be helpful. It has been so cold, I would like a heavier one,” she murmured, still staring at the page of shoes.
“Is that all you have determined, Bella? I thought you might have come up with some colors. I wanted to send word to Madame Trousseau and let her know the colors so that she could be more specific with the fabric when she got here. She usually brings some of the favored bolts of fabric.” Her mother’s disappointment washed over her.
“I am sorry, Mama. I have not been thinking overmuch about the dresses,” she said. Putting down the magazine, she looked up. “I just received an invitation from Lord Drake, I mean His Grace, asking me to go on a ride through Hyde Park and for an ice at Gunter’s tomorrow. I accepted.”
“Are the roses from him, as well?” her mother asked.
“Yes, are they not the prettiest flowers you have ever seen?” Bella asked, dreamily.
Her mother laughed. “I can see how picking out fabric and dress designs could fall to the wayside when the handsome duke steps into your thoughts.”
“Mama, do you think Madame will bring some ideas of hats and the latest shoes? The catalog suggested some rather interesting designs.”
“Yes, that is an excellent idea,” her mother said. “I can pen that thought to her, as well.” She laid down the quill after making the shortlist and looked at her daughter with her brow raised in mock outrage. “An ice at Gunter’s? Are you sure when it threatens more snow?” She gave a teasing tone.
Indeed, it had been snowing off and on for the past day, even though it had accumulated little yet. “You are chaffing me, Mama,” Bella laughed. “It is what made me think of the need for a warmer pelisse. And a matching muff,” Bella added, happy to see she had not disappointed her mother as she had thought. “I plan to make a list,” she said, picking up the magazine once more. “I almost forgot. I glanced throughThe Morning Spectacleand saw that Byron’s playA Bride of Abydosis playing at Drury Lane. Would you feel up to taking in the play while we are here? I know you enjoy Byron.”
“I have heard good things about it, and your brother had mentioned it. With limited formal entertainment during Christmastide—outside of the usual holiday plays—it seems we should. Percy would also like us to get to know his betrothed a little better. Lady Emmaline seems very pleasant. I would enjoy the opportunity to know her,” her mother said, threading her needle.
“I would as well. I was never more surprised than to hear Percy would marry. He seemed to scorn the idea,” Bella added.
“Bella! Your brother knows his duty. As do you,” her mother said, placing a quick kiss on the cheek. “He is an obedient son, and I am looking forward to having Lady Emmaline as a daughter.”
“Perhaps we can invite Slade . . . I mean, His Grace,” Bella spoke, hoping her mother would not object.
“He is in mourning,” her mother tutted.
Bella frowned, realizing it was true. His mother and sister had also joined him in London, so they would all be together for the holiday. She knew they would not be able to attend.
“However, men are not as limited with mourning,” her mother continued. “I suppose he might join us. Let me find out more about what the theaters offer before we decide on a play. I will speak to your father.”
“Yes, Mama.” Bella reached over and grabbed her book, placing it in her skirt pocket. “I will go back upstairs and see if Mary is finished sorting through my gowns. She was pressing them and mending a few tears I obtained, although I thought I had been careful.”
Lady Rothmore leaned in and kissed her daughter on the cheek. “Run along, Bella. I plan to finish this stitchery today. It is for your brother’s betrothed.”
Bella went upstairs and found that Mary had long since finished working with her clothing.I must have been reading longer than I had imagined. The book was the one that Mr. Greene had recommended, and she found it quite good. Her mother had tempered her elation over tomorrow’s ride in Hyde Park with talk of dresses and such. The reference to her brother’s engagement reminded Bella that they had seen little of her brother since his announcement. He was probably making a last sweep of his favorite haunts with his friends. He had not minded Slade’s courting of her. That made her happy. Her brother could be strict about things when he wanted to, but he had always been more interested in her happiness and did not mind she liked his friend.
“Lady Bella,” Mary’s voice broke her reverie. “I have your dresses pressed and ready for you.”
“Mary,” Bella said, acknowledging her maid. “I got an invitation from the duke a little while ago. We shall go to Hyde Park tomorrow. I am very excited!”
“That will be a good time, milady,” Mary returned in a strange voice. “I shall make sure that your muff is cleaned and ready. I think the last time you used it, it ripped. I had quite forgotten about it while going through your clothing.”
Bella noticed her maid’s face. “Mary, what is wrong?”
Mary sat on the edge of the bed. “This morning I accompanied the cook to help her with her shopping, milady. I had already done what I needed, and you were absorbed in your new book. I did not bother you earlier, but I have been concerned. A woman jolted me and handed me a note while I was in the market. I would swear she bumped into me on purpose and then handed me the missive. I read it.”
“You look miserable. What could it have said to upset you, so?” Bella asked. She always worried that the man from the park would appear one day and take her friend away, even knowing the ridiculousness of such a happening all these years later.
“I opened it,” she said, fishing into the pocket of her gown. She handed the wadded note to her mistress.
Bella straightened the crumpled paper and read.
Tellyour mistress he cannot be hers.
