Chapter Twelve
The following days passed in a blur of new acquaintances and experiences as Bella immersed herself in the life of this small seaside community.
She attended card parties and teas, and one particularly thrilling gathering where women of all ages and backgrounds spoke passionately about the need for women's education at every level of society, and how education was vital to protecting a woman's virtue and shaping her future for the better.
She met so many new people that her head whirled with faces and names, but her mind kept pausing on the mysterious Captain Harwood.
She dreamt of smiling up at him, his fair good looks softened as he returned her gaze, and then, without warning, she would dream of racing along the windy shore after him or being tumbled together in the waves.
Why should a man with whom she had so little acquaintance occupy so many of her thoughts?
Was it because he was indeed some sort of villain, and her body and mind were putting her on warning against him?
Or was it something else, a feeling she did not care to examine too closely?
A naval captain with his hand in whatever seedy dealings took place around the harbour would hardly be considered an appropriate choice for the future mistress of Pemberley.
She laughed at the thought. He did not like her in any event, and she did not like him, so it mattered very little.
On the Friday following her arrival in Falmouth, Aunt Lydia planned a dinner which she described as a welcome in Bella's honour and went out of her way to ensure that all the things Bella liked best to eat and drink were stocked for the evening.
The dining table was cleared of its usual clutter and polished to a mirror shine, while colourful paper garlands were strung across the ceiling.
It reminded Bella a little of a birthday party she had once attended as a child at the home of one of her father's tenants.
There was a cheerful, unstudied joy to the whole affair, and Lydia hurried from room to room ensuring that everything was exactly as she wished before her guests began to arrive.
Mrs Gossling and Miss Blaine were, of course, among the first through the door, Mrs Gosling in a dramatic concoction of fuchsia and gold, with a head piece so high that she had to duck carefully through the doorway.
They were followed by a varied collection of guests drawn, once again, from every level of society.
Bella was introduced to a schoolteacher with kind eyes and wide spectacles who reminded her very much of her aunt Mary, and in the next breath found herself curtseying before a grand lady whom she was almost certain Lydia had referred to as a duchess.
"None of that now, Lydia," the woman said when her aunt attempted some introduction involving titles. She took Bella's hands warmly in her own. "It is a pleasure to meet any relation of my dear Mrs Bennet."
There was also a merchant called Mr Malcolm in a fine silk waistcoat and an elderly gentleman named Mr Turnpike who wore the fashion of the past century and carried an ear trumpet.
Just when Bella thought the house could not possibly hold one more person, she spotted a blond head rising above the crowd and drew in a sharp breath.
Captain Harwood. He was here. Bella could not imagine why the discovery should surprise her.
Lydia had already told her that she intended to invite him, and yet after their uncomfortable exchange in the tearoom she had half expected him to stay away.
He had certainly not appeared to enjoy her company, and although he was kind to her aunt, he had seemed more than a little put upon at being forced to take tea with them.
Tonight, however, he had abandoned his usual well-worn greatcoat for a sharply cut dark blue tailcoat over a pale waistcoat and crisp white linen shirt, his cravat tied neatly at his throat.
The coat fitted closely at his waist and stretched across his shoulders, making him appear broader somehow, and in the candlelight his hair glowed like molten honey while his eyes seemed more intensely green than she remembered.
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.