said quietly,
“It is all right, Step-Papa, I understand.”
“It is something you should not understand!” he growled angrily. “God knows, I do not know which way to turn and everything I do seems to make things worse!”
“Perhaps it will all come right – in the end.”
Even as Belinda spoke she thought it was a forlorn hope, yet somehow she wanted to comfort him.
Of course everything he had done was wrong. Of course he had behaved abominably.
Yet, at the same time, there was something about his frankness and his despair that despite herself touched her heart.
‘I ought to hate him for what he has done to me,’ she mused.
She realised, however, that like the dozens of other women he knew, she was reacting to his charm. He admitted his foolishness and she knew he felt helpless to cope with the situation.
It was not far to Regent’s Park.
As Belinda saw the trees ahead, she was suddenly conscious of the significance of what she was about to do.
If she failed, she might be signing her stepfather’s death warrant.
She herself, as he had predicted, would have to go to the workhouse or starve.
She felt a sudden panic sweep over her.
‘I cannot do it! I am sure I shall make a mess of it and perhaps things will be worse than they are already,’ she thought desperately.
As if he were aware of what she was thinking, D’Arcy Rowland said,
“I think you are very brave, Belinda, and your father would be proud of you. Most girls would be screaming and crying because they were afraid, but you are behaving just as I knew you would.”
“I-I wish that were – true, Step-Papa,” Belinda replied in a low voice.
“It
is
true,” he answered. “I have been watching you and I know that no one and I mean no one would have behaved as marvellously as you have, since I confessed what an intolerable situation I have landed you in.”
He gave a deep sigh.
“It is my fault,
of course
, it is my fault, but I hope one day I will be able to repay you and that is what I am praying I shall be able to do.”
He was speaking with an undoubted sincerity.
Impulsively Belinda put her hand on his arm.
“I am praying so too, Step-Papa. I know Mama will help us and whatever happens we must not give up hope.”
As she spoke, her stepfather tooled his horses through some iron gates.
She knew that they had reached the house where Lady Logan lived.
Belinda was well read.
She was therefore aware that when Nash had designed his magnificent Crescent, it was he who had designated that the Park should be called after the Prince Regent.
She knew, too, that besides the Crescent, which was the finest piece of domestic architecture in London, Nash had designed six houses in the Park itself.
They had been lived in originally by Government Officials and gradually over the years they had been sold into private hands and at least three of them rebuilt.
As her stepfather drew up his Chaise beside the front door, she saw a house that certainly bore the hallmark of Nash himself.
It was surrounded by a garden exquisitely kept and ablaze with colour and there were tall trees on the green lawns.
It all appeared so perfect and might have come out of a picture rather than being there in reality.
There was a portico over the front door that had been opened by a footman.
He was wearing a very different livery, Belinda noticed, from that worn by Jim.
It was quite plain with knee breeches, silk stockings, a white wig and white gloves.
He helped Belinda out of the chaise.
As she walked into the house she turned back.
Her stepfather had not moved from the driving seat, but was waiting.
She had not really understood when he had said,
“Don’t forget that your name is Brown and you have been working for Lady Selby, who will, if necessary, provide you with a reference.”
Belinda did not speak and he went on,
“Her Ladyship was kind enough to send you in her chaise which also carried your trunks, so that if you are engaged you can
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