Regency Pleasures and Sins Part 1. Louise Allen

She paused and added with a rueful smile, ‘And not necessarily in that order!’

      ‘Tallie! I am certain Lord Arndale would never—’

      ‘Oh, he would be perfectly charming, I am sure, and I would live a life enriched with every comfort and elegancy.’ She broke off to push open a door. ‘These rooms are very spacious for the second floor, are they not?

      ‘The children would be a joy, of course,’ she added somewhat absently, ‘although I would prefer it if their father had married me because he loved me, not first and foremost because he had compromised me.’

      They had arrived at the end of the corridor and Tallie started to climb the narrow stairs in front of her. ‘Where does this go?’

      ‘To the attics and down to the kitchens. Tallie, do stop and come and sit down and have some luncheon and tell me why you will not marry his lordship. What has upset you so?’ Zenna regarded her friend’s set face. ‘Now, this minute, Tallie! Or I swear I will write to Lord Arndale and demand to know what he has done to you.’

      Miss Zenobia Scott was not given to making threats she would not carry out. Tallie allowed herself to meet her friend’s eyes for the first time that day and smiled ruefully, finding it difficult to prevent her lip quivering.

      ‘Very well, Zenna,’ she capitulated meekly, following her down the twisting servants’ stair to the ground floor.

      ‘Mrs Blackstock is staying with her cousin, but the lady kindly lent me two of her maids so that I could stay here for a few days and assess the house better. The owner is proving so co-operative that I think he must be having trouble disposing of such a large establishment. That gives me hope we can drive a hard bargain.’

      She tugged the bell-pull and spoke a few words to the maid who appeared in answer. ‘There, something will be ready in ten minutes. Now sit down, Tallie, please, and tell me what has occurred.’

      Taking a deep breath, Tallie repeated the tale she had told Lady Parry the day before. It was easier the second time round and without Nick there it was considerably less embarrassing. She was also far more frank with her friend about exactly what had happened when she awoke in Nick’s bedroom.

      ‘Oh, my goodness,’ Zenna said weakly, her eyes round with shock. ‘And his lordship did not …’

      ‘No.’

      ‘Goodness,’ she repeated. ‘I would have thought that his lordship is quite … er … that is, he is very …’

      ‘Very,’ Tallie agreed drily.

      Zenna digested this for a moment. ‘And he does desire you?’

      ‘So it would seem. But then, most men appear to have very passionate desires. It means nothing in particular to them. It is certainly no basis for a marriage.’ Tallie turned to her friend, suddenly fierce. ‘I have no intention of sharing my husband with his mistress, however much Society may turn a blind eye to that sort of behaviour.’

      ‘It appears to be almost expected in Society marriages,’ Zenna agreed sadly. ‘But are you so sure he does not love you?’ She bit her lip, obviously searching for some hopeful comment. ‘Perhaps he is shy and … no, perhaps not.’

      ‘I cannot imagine the circumstances in which Nicholas Stangate would be shy,’ Tallie said with a smile at the thought. ‘Besides, he tried every argument to point out to me just how necessary this match is. If he loved me, surely that was when he should have told me?’

      ‘You would think so, but men are unaccountable beings,’ Zenna mused, breaking off at a tap on the door. ‘That will be luncheon ready. We will serve ourselves, so we can continue talking.’

      The meal was set out in a charming parlour at the back of the house, giving Tallie the opportunity to admire the garden.

      But Zenna was not to be diverted. ‘So how have you left things? Surely you cannot avoid meeting Lord Arndale if you are continuing to reside with Lady Parry?’

      ‘He has wagered me that I will agree to marry him within two weeks of yesterday.’

      ‘He is very sure of himself!’

      ‘He is indeed, which is why I want you to promise me that you will not admit him here if he calls. A few days’ peace will allow me to think about how I can best dissuade him from this.’ Zenna looked doubtful, but Tallie persisted. ‘Promise me, Zenna!’

      ‘Very well,’ her friend agreed. ‘Beside our friends and tradespeople, I will admit prospective parents only.’

      That provoked a laugh from Tallie. ‘Come now, Zenna! Even for someone as confident as you, that is carrying expectation too far, is it not?’

      ‘It is not impossible,’ Zenna retorted, passing a plate of ham across the table. ‘I have confided my intentions to a number of people and I do think this house will prove suitable. Now, tell me more calmly about this idea of yours to admit young women of no means. How can we afford it?’

      ‘I will pay their fees. We cannot take many, I quite realise that, but even a few who leave with the skills to manage their own small business, or become governesses or companions—surely that is better for them than struggling in poverty when they have the intelligence and the spirit to do better for themselves?’

      Zenna looked thoughtful. ‘Yes, you are right. Think what a difficult situation you or I would have been in if we had tried to make our own way in the world with no education.’ She delved into her reticule for the set of tablets and pencil that inevitably accompanied her. ‘This has given me much to think about and will change some of my calculations.’ She sucked the end of her pencil thoughtfully. ‘How many girls do you think we should start with?’

      Tallie, who had begun by using her idea as a defence against having to think about Nick and how miserable she felt, found herself drawn deep into Zenna’s plans and how they could be adapted to accommodate her ‘special students', as Zenna called them.

      Dinner time found the pair of them still hunched over the dining table surrounded by sheets of paper, Zenna’s tablets long exhausted. Rough sketch plans of each floor with scribbled notes about alterations jostled with lists of everything from subjects to be taught to bed linen required.

      They continued during the meal until Tallie spilled gravy on Zenna’s tabulated curriculum for the youngest girls.

      ‘Enough!’ she announced, mopping it up. ‘I am too tired to concentrate any more. In fact, if you will excuse me, Zenna, I will go direct to my bed. I declare I had no idea that education would be such an exhausting undertaking.’

      Her friend, who had been prepared to carry on talking until she dropped if that helped keep the haunted look from Tallie’s eyes, nodded encouragingly. ‘What a good idea. I will just make sure the maids have locked up and then I will not be far behind you.’

      Tallie fell asleep instantly, hardly stirring when Zenna slipped into the other side of the big bed they were sharing.

      But her slumber was racked with nightmares and she tossed and turned, muttering under her breath until poor Zenna seriously considered taking a pillow and the counterpane and trying to sleep on the chaise longue in the front parlour.

      In consequence, it was two heavy-eyed young ladies who regarded each other over a very late breakfast. ‘What were you dreaming about?’ Zenna demanded bluntly, draining her second helping of hot chocolate and reaching for the pot to refill her cup. ‘It was like sharing the bed with a basket of puppies.’

      Tallie rubbed her aching brow and tried to recall. ‘I was in class and you were telling me to write on my slate “I will marry Lord Arndale” one thousand times. And when I refused you turned into him and he shouted at me that I was ruined and must go and stand in the corner and disobeying him was no way to learn ancient Greek. And I would not do that either so he took me in his arms and …’

      ‘Yes?’ Zenna’s chocolate cup tilted dangerously.

      ‘…