55. Tittle-tattle

The gossip rags the next morning set the cat among the pigeons.

This was never about me; I had my own goals to achieve; this whole adventure was about meeting my mother's wishes for her daughters, my sisters, it was about the Rogeringham women, about their futures, not mine.

Except that one of the tattle-mongers in one of the daily broadsheets had decided differently.

"We noted that during this year's wonderful presentation that someone stood out. Was it the delightful Phoebe Raglan-Watkins, who looked stunning, or Portia Cunningham? Even the queen's favoured Lydia Bradley, the youngest daughter of Lt.-General Sir George Bradley?

No dear reader, it wasn't.

We were watching carefully while the two most eligible people of the year studiously avoided each other. Captain Sir William Rogeringham, the valiant 6 th Duke of Norton - not long returned from the service of his King, and the vivacious heiress, the Honourable Arabella Dorrington. It cannot be a coincidence that they barely exchanged a word all afternoon, and it might be construed that they are deliberately attempting to throw this observer off the scent. We shall see ..."

There was much giggling about this at our breakfast table, more so when I loudly told Charlotte that it was all so much bollocks, but abruptly my position was undercut by the appearance of Mr Dives with Elizabeth Dorrington's calling card, and apparently, she had Arabella with her.

For a moment, I felt trapped, and totally unprepared for this, but then to my relief, Mr Dives offered the calling card to Helena and not to me, so as Elizabeth was calling on my mother and not myself, I went to my study.

Which lasted ten minutes or so, as Mr Dives appeared with a message from Helena requesting that I attend her and Lady Elizabeth. I was reminded of being summoned for some transgression as a child.

In fact, as soon as I entered my mother smiled, "Oh William, is it such a chore to take tea with two of your most ardent admirers." It occurred to me that she was enjoying my discomfort.

"Especially as you seem to be 'one of the Ton's most eligible people'," Lady Dorrington teased.

"I beg you Elizabeth, please ignore that stupidity, this year's Season is not about me."

"However sincerely you believe that, Your Grace," she smiled, "The gossiping community now see it as about you, as much as anyone else."

"The deuce to that!" I snorted. "I have the highest regard for your daughter, and I know that I agreed with her that we should cooperate as friends to discourage others, but I see no reason why she should be so mired in a gossip driven fiction."

"Ah, but she is now." Helena explained, "You both are, I am afraid. And there is very little that can be done about it, short of you bolting for the safety of the country. Try and deny it and the gossip mongers will have a field day."

"They would also construe flight as confirmation, whether it is or not." Elizabeth agreed with her.

"And is there no recourse against these vultures?" I asked.

Both women smugly shook their heads. I sat back in my chair. I could not for the life of me comprehend what they found so funny, and said so.

My mother appeared to take pity on me, which was nearly as bad. "It is simply watching you flail about as you try and thrash smoke, as it were, especially as you are usually the one directing affairs," she told me. "You are helpless, and it angers you that you have no recourse. These gossip columnists conceal their identities and can make these pronouncements with impunity. They can ruin someone's reputation with a sentence."

"If I may, Your Grace?" Elizabeth said, she and my mother appeared to be finishing each other's sentences. I wasn't sure which was more disconcerting - their new friendship, or my, apparently, growing relationship with Arabella. "As my daughter suggested to you, allowing it to appear that there is a relationship will work better for both of you than trying to fight such a suggestion."

Helena nodded. "It will draw any attention away from you and I, and from any relationship that Arabella wants to pursue."

"And because they will be looking at you two, it means that they will not be scrutinising your sisters, which in itself is a desirable outcome, Your Grace."

"How so?" I asked.

"Because people make mistakes - and the young ladies of the Season are no different. I would assume that as well-prepared as the Rogeringham ladies are, they will slip as well. If the eyes of the scandal mongers are focussed on yourself and Arabella, then hopefully any slips your sisters may make will be ignored."

I was about to say something in my sisters' defence, but Helena spoke before I did, "If my daughters err in any way, it will be because of a failure on my part."

"Please, Your Grace?" Elizabeth started quickly, "I meant no ..."

Helena stilled her comment with a gracefully raised hand, "No offence was taken Elizabeth, I assure you. We have all spent many hours on proper behaviours, and manners."

"Not that there was anything wrong with my sisters' manners." I hastened to add. "It was simply decided that it would do no harm to anyone to re-examine proper behaviour."

Elizabeth nodded. "I admit that I have done much the same with Arabella. I feared that she had spent too much time around soldiers and military camps to be let loose on polite London society."

I smiled at that, remembering the first time I had met the Dorringtons. But there was much that was different in Portugal and the social scene there, things which would have had the 'proper' society of the Ton grasping for its pearls and gasping for air. Not that Arabella behaved like a street whore or that the Dorrington house in Lisbon could have been construed in any way as a bordel or anything like that. But the norms of society in London were such, that what was normal in Portugal - young men and young women associating together with no chaperone - would have been seen as scandalous in London.

I suspected that Arabella had spent more than just a few hours on re-learning the polite behaviours of London society, and I was just turning that over in my mind, when I heard Elizabeth Dorrington say to my mother. "Would it be impudent, Your Grace, if I asked whether you like women?"

We both looked at her in surprise.

"Forgive me being forward, but Your Grace is a beautiful woman, and I believe that you are also a woman who enjoys sensual pleasures. I have found that too much time is wasted in skirting around these things, so I prefer to ask directly."

"Not everyone surely?" I asked. Such abrupt approaches would surely soon result in Elizabeth being ostracised from London society.

"No, Your Grace," she acknowledged. "However, sometimes I meet someone, and I think ..."

I looked at Helena. As is fashionable for a woman of her social standing, my mother has a pale, almost alabaster complexion, and I watched a rosy flush spread across her cheeks, and I noted that her breaths seemed to speed up, becoming shallower. Apart from the flush, I suspect that only someone who knew Helena very well, would notice that this was not simply embarrassment but also a mild flush of excitement.

"I thank you for your consideration, Lady Elizabeth," Helena told her calmly, mastering her breathing. "I am aware that many women find comfort in the arms of other women, and that they prefer it to lying with their husbands, but I cannot, in all honesty, say that I do. If by your question, you are also asking would I enjoy such an encounter with yourself? I would say that I do not know, as my experience in these things is still very limited. I have enjoyed what very few experiences I have had, but they have not been sufficient for me to say whether I would like to have more.

"I am, of course, flattered, Lady Dorrington," Helena continued, "You are a very attractive woman of stunning appearance, and you are obviously a woman who does herself enjoy sensual pleasures; however, I am still a novice in such voluptuous adventures, and while I am progressing in my knowledge, I am not sure that I am ready for such an interlude."

I sat there intrigued by this conversation, Elizabeth had propositioned my mother, in much the same way that she had propositioned me to sleep with her daughter in Portugal. And instead of a heated denial and rejection, Helena had gracefully declined her offer, though it was my feeling that she was mildly interested. I think that what made it worse for me was that Helena did not mention my name once!

Elizabeth Dorrington was not easily put off. "I would be greatly honoured, Lady Rogeringham, if you would consider coming to stay at my house at Henley for a couple of days," Elizabeth said, "It has a pleasant aspect and there are some pleasant walks by the river there. And perhaps I could assist you in making your mind up?"

Helena laughed. "I will gladly accept your invitation Lady Dorrington, a couple of days in the country would be most agreeable. The rest, however, I will have to consider."

It was not the morning I had anticipated, but at this point Arabella returned, and I felt a walk around the gardens was in order, so I suggested this to her and we left our mothers circling round an assignation in the country, as one does.

Charlotte agreed to chaperone us. And we had a pleasant walk in the sunshine. Charlotte and Arabella chatted happily and it appeared that she and my sister had become friends, I wasn't entirely convinced that this was a good thing.

I was struck by the thought that things were getting out of control.

I recalled a similar walk with Charlotte before we left London to go to Rogeringham Hall. My sister and I had discussed hopes and dreams and we talked a little about my promise, now the first part of that had been delivered and I wanted to talk about the next stage. However, it appeared that Charlotte was keen on pushing Arabella and I together. Of course, Charlotte knew that I was devoted to Helena, but she appeared to have joined the group of people that thought that Arabella and I acting together would serve us both well.

There is a saying that a wise general chooses when and where he is going to fight. Wellesley, as I have said, seeks his opportunities but when he sees them, he exploits them fully. I suppose that I could have resisted this idea, but on reflection it did make a great deal of sense. I decided, that the idea was a good one, but it could be better.

"So, you think so too?" Arabella observed.

"I beg your pardon?" I asked.

Both women laughed. "Oh William!" Charlotte took my hand. "I hope you do not play cards like that!"

"Like what?"

"While you were considering what we were saying." Arabella observed, "You suddenly underwent a change. Your body straightened."

"You came to a decision." Charlotte finished for her.

Was this going to happen with all of the women in my life? Would they all finish each other's sentences?

"And considering what we were talking about, it might be assumed that you had made your mind up about it." Arabella ended the thought.

I had to laugh. Arabella was intelligent and perceptive, and she got on with my sisters, always a good thing. She knew about my mother and me, and it did not bother her, also a good thing. She was attractive, and I liked her. That other people thought we should be together was unimportant, it was what we thought that mattered.

Both women stopped laughing.

"Your Grace?" Arabella had seen my face.

"William?"

"There is much we need to discuss - a contract, if you will, informal, but we need an agreement." Both women nodded.

"What is our aim in this?" I asked.

Arabella blinked. It had been her suggestion originally; I was looking for her thoughts. "I just thought ... perhaps we could ..." she said.

"Perhaps an illusion? A ruse?" I suggested, "You and I pretend that we are interested in each other? We make this last through the Season, and part as friends at the end?"

"Or?" Had Charlotte made the leap already?

"We carry this through, see it to its logical conclusion," I said, both of them looked stunned.

"Your original idea was correct Arabella, there are advantages for both of us," I went on, "But I believe you did not see all of the possibilities. By making this pretence real, I can give you the security you need, to do as you wish, to love with whom you wish, as long as you are discreet, and that will give me the cover to be with Helena. Marriage would be a security for both of us."

As proposals of marriage go, I will admit that it was a little abrupt, stark even; bare of romance and positively business-like, but the proposition before us was less about romance and more about an accommodation between Arabella and I.

"You and I to marry?!" Arabella exclaimed. I could see that Charlotte was equally surprised.

I spoke rapidly, originally the plan had been to only make it appear that we were interested, so that we could avoid being matched up. My suggestion turned that on its head, but for what I thought were good reasons. I had come to many realisations over the winter, that Helena and I would never be able to marry was the biggest one and the most disappointing. On the other hand, I reasoned, if Arabella and I were to marry, then she and I could each pursue our own happiness, under a guise of married respectability.

It was, I am sure, not a new idea and many couples did the same, for whatever reasons they might have. The sexual preferences of the married parties, as in our case, being probably the most obvious one. In our case we were adding an additional layer, my relationship with my mother.

And many men and women marry and they don't actually like each other, and never do, many of His Majesty's officers have wives at home while they serve abroad and both parties are completely comfortable with the situation. These relationships are mostly remote and distant, Helena's marriage to my father being a good example of how remote two married people can be. Unlike others, however, she did not look outside of their relationship - at least not until I returned home. If Arabella and I both knew what the other was doing, and were content with that, surely that would be more honest than many marriages? It would be unusual, mad even, but honest.

It is a mark, again, of how perceptive Arabella is, that as I explained my thoughts, she grasped the implications of my proposal quickly, how what I was suggesting would work to her benefit as it would mine.

"Would you consider children?" I asked. A marriage without issue, would be unusual, suspicious perhaps.

Arabella thought for a moment, before she nodded. "That would be ... reasonable," she said. "It is not like we haven't ..." She let the sentence tail off.

"You are not escaping the Season!" Charlotte chipped in. "You will have to go through it all, the same as the rest of us, of course."

She was right. Arabella nodded. "We shall have to flirt, you and I, and be seen in all of the right places. And, Your Grace, you will have to woo me!" She laughed.

"I thought I had done that already." I told her, with a grin.

Arabella swatted at me with her fan, "Fie, sir! That was uncalled for! It's true, but a low blow all of the same." But she laughed as she said it. I could see that Charlotte was intrigued by all of this and that she would probably quiz me mercilessly when she had the chance.

We walked back to the house, making light conversation as we did. Arabella's mother was ready to depart.