Page 23 of Bella Darcy is on the Run

He caught her gaze across the room and inclined his head. Bella's stomach flipped nervously. Her aunt had said that he was too handsome to be anything but a gentleman, but Bella was beginning to worry that Captain Harwood was so handsome he could be almost anything he wished, good or ill, and very few people would think to question him.

Aunt Lydia found the whole idea of place settings stuffy in the extreme, as she had explained to Bella at some length over breakfast. This meant that the journey from the parlour to the dining room was a chaotic affair, with much chatter, laughter and gentle jostling, and somehow, before she quite knew how it had happened, Bella found herself seated between Captain Harwood and Mr Turnpike, the elderly gentleman with the ear trumpet. Opposite her sat the potential duchess, who had firmly instructed everyone that she wished to be addressed as Mrs Cassidy.

Bella smoothed the skirts of her cream-coloured gown and was suddenly very glad she had convinced her aunt to let her remove some of its more ostentatious embellishments. An afternoon spent unpicking lengths of ribbon and lace now seemed quite worth the effort as she attempted to maintain a cool dignity beneath the sardonic eye of Captain Harwood.

"You are a lovely girl, Miss Ella!" shouted Mr Turnpike to her right. "And such a pretty name, that. Ella! Your aunt Lydia must be overjoyed... eh... to have your company?"

"Thank you, sir. That would be Bella, but..." Mr Turnpike's ear trumpet appeared to have been misplaced somewhere between the parlour and the dining room, and he seemed quite content to continue the conversation without any particular assistance from her.

Across the table, Mrs Cassidy let out a girlish giggle that seemed delightfully at odds with her steel-grey hair and matronly gown. "You will have to excuse the somewhat haphazard nature of our company, Miss Bennet. Dear Lydia puts on a fine gathering and is a kind and generous hostess, but no one could ever accuse her of being conventional. Therefore, we all muddle along together as best we can." She gave Bella a rakish wink. "It is rather a lot of fun."

Bella looked towards the head of the table, where Lydia stood in a fabulous lilac dress adorned with hundreds of tiny pink and green roses across the bodice and shoulders. She looked as though she had been rolling around in a spring garden, and with her rosy cheeks and flashing eyes she appeared almost girlish. She clinked a knife against a crystal wine glass with an alarming degree of force, bringing the room to silence.

"Welcome, welcome, old friends and new," she said, smiling widely. "Tonight's dinner is in honour of my beautiful niece, Miss Bella Bennet, lately arrived from Derbyshire and the dearest girl I have ever had the pleasure of hosting beneath my roof. Now, I am sure she will not mind me saying that she has left rather quiet and grand surroundings for our little corner of Cornwall, and I trust you will all help her enjoy a little liveliness tonight. We have a great feast ahead of us, and afterwards I suggest we roll back the rugs and have a most improper amount of dancing. Please eat, drink and make my dear Bella feel very welcome."

The table erupted into noisy applause and all eyes turned towards Bella, who felt certain she must be blushing scarlet to the tips of her ears. She took a sudden and consuming interest in the napkin arranged elegantly across her lap.

"The guest of honour," came a low voice near to her ear. The vibration of it seemed to travel through her whole body.

"Apparently so," Bella murmured, still embarrassed and unwilling to look at him.

She turned her attention instead to the tureen of soup being passed around the table, hoping the matter might be allowed to rest. Captain Harwood, however, apparently had other ideas. "Tell me, Miss Bennet of Derbyshire, have you requested the source of everyone's income, their current occupation and perhaps a short family history from all the guests here tonight? How about dental records? I know you are very keen on extracting personal information from new acquaintances."

"That is most unfair," Bella hissed under her breath, wishing he would keep quiet.

"It is quite shocking, madam, to be accosted in broad daylight and in a respectable tea shop, no less, about the source of one's income. I am sure you made some of the ladies in there flutter their fans with uncommon vigour."

"I have already made my apologies, sir. I had no wish to offend." Bella glanced around to make certain nobody was listening before leaning a little closer. "But if you insist upon skulking around with filthy men and handing envelopes about in broad daylight, what can you expect?"

His expression changed. The teasing look disappeared and something harder settled across his features. "I see we are expanding your list of endeavours to include spying, which I cannot imagine is considered a particularly ladylike occupation. Although I suppose, for a lady who arrives unescorted and entirely unexpected in the wilds of Cornwall, I ought to expect no less."

Bella drew herself up and opened her mouth to respond.

"Would you like some bread, Miss Ella?" Mr Turnpike bellowed suddenly from her other side, pushing the basket towards her. "Try the butter. Mrs Bennet does keep good butter."

"Thank you." Bella accepted a piece simply to bring her conversation with the captain to an end. They had not even reached the first proper course and already she had come close to blows with the handsome and infuriating man beside her.

She set her shoulders back. "I concede, sir, that we have very much got off on the wrong foot. My aunt Lydia is quite concerned that this evening should be a success, and therefore I ask that we conduct ourselves with civility for the remainder of it. And if not civility, then at least polite silence." She placed particular emphasis upon the final word.

One of his eyebrows rose, but some of the sternness dropped from his features and the corner of his mouth twitched. "I have not known you for very long, Miss Bennet, but I am not entirely certain polite silence is within your gift."

Bella fought down a laugh. "If you think I am bad, you should meet my sister Mina. She has never used one word when fifteen will do."

"So the mysterious Miss Bennet has a family."

"Of course I have a family. What did you imagine? That I sprang up in a field one morning amongst the potatoes and simply appeared in Cornwall fully grown?"

"I had no notion, Miss Bennet. You are an exceedingly mysterious woman."

"You are one to talk."

He smiled properly then, showing a deep dimple on the left side of his mouth, and for a moment Bella forgot she was supposed to be irritated with him.

"Remember," he said, "you were the one who requested cordiality."

"I was, sir, but I do not think either of us is particularly accomplished at it, so perhaps we should settle upon a neutral subject." She considered him. "Will you tell me of your family?"

He did, briefly, and before Bella quite knew how it had happened she found herself speaking in return. She told him of her mother and father, of Kate and Mina, of the beauty of the Derbyshire hills and the beloved home in which she had grown up. She did not mention its grandeur or that she would one day inherit Pemberley and doubted he would put the pieces together for himself. Most great estates passed through the male line, and there was no reason for him to imagine that Pemberley would be any different.