Henrietta by M.C. Beaton Page B

she was spoiled and demanding. But her behaviour has been all that is nice of late and she has been an exceeding good friend to Henrietta.”
    “There you are then,” exclaimed Mr. Holmes. “She would not harm Miss Sandford in any way. By the way, is the vicar’s sister shortly to realize her ambition?”
    “Fustian!” drawled his lordship. “I am sure Miss Sandford had no such ambition. The idea that she wished to marry me was put about, I am sure, by that romantic companion of hers. Miss Sandford is like a sister to me. I think highly of her and enjoy her companionship and am intrigued by the mystery that surrounds her. That is all.”
    Mr. Holmes was silent. With a delicacy and tact foreign to his usual forthright nature, he did not point out to his friend that the look in Henrietta’s eyes betokened anything but simple friendship.
    He was roused from his reverie by his lordship’s asking, “Well, and when do you plan to propose to the fair Alice?”
    “I am to call on Lady Belding at five o’clock. I hope my courage will not fail. I did not state my reasons for calling.”
    The Beau’s harsh features softened as he surveyed the anxious expression on his friend’s cherubic countenance. “You look as fine as fivepence, Jeremy. I am sure you will soften even Lady Belding’s flinty heart.”
    “My appearance won’t,” said his friend dryly. “But mayhap my fortune will.”
    Nonetheless it was an unusually dithering and anxious Jeremy Holmes who presented himself at the Belding household. To his relief, the butler informed him that Lord Belding had come to town and was at present in the study.
    This was better, thought Jeremy. He should not have to face the terrifying mother after all. Accordingly, he followed the butler to the study where he found Lord Belding fortifying himself from the brandy decanter.
    Lord Belding did not share his wife’s aristocratic looks. Lady Belding was also his second cousin and had all the Belding aristocratic hauteur. Lord Belding looked, on the other hand, for all the world like a farmer. He had a round red face with white bushy eyebrows and a short stubby nose. He wore an old-fashioned bagwig and knee breeches. His pale, bulbous blood-shot eyes surveyed Mr. Holmes with surprise, taking in all the glory of his appearance from his pomaded curls to his shiny hessians and the lacings on his breeches.
    “Well,” demanded Lord Belding finally. “What brings you here, Holmes?”
    Jeremy eased a finger into his cravat. “I am come to ask your permission to pay my addresses to your daughter.”
    “Oh, is that all,” said his lordship. “Thought you was goin’ to ask for money. Sit down, m’boy and take a glass with me.” Jeremy raised his hand to protest but Lord Belding had already seized the decanter and was pouring a liberal measure into a goblet. “Drink up, m’boy. I’ll send for Alice.” He gave the bellrope a massive tug and, when the butler appeared, instructed him to fetch Miss Alice directly, with so many nods and winks that the butler only gave one significant look at the decanter before departing on his errand.
    “Well,” said Lord Belding raising his glass. “What yer waitin’ for. No heel taps.”
    “No heel taps,” said Jeremy faintly, draining the massive goblet and feeling his head beginning to reel. Why, it must have held at least a pint! And he had had several glasses of madeira to fortify himself for his ordeal before he had even left his house.
    He blinked to clear his head and then stumbled to his feet and he found himself confronted with the beautiful vision that was Alice Belding.
    “Leave you two young things alone,” said Lord Belding with an awful leer, and lumbered towards the door. He nearly collided with his wife who stood majestically on the threshold, her bosom thrust forward like the figurehead on a frigate.
    “Alice! What is going on here!” demanded Lady Belding.
    “Why, mama, I know not,” said Alice, dimpling