Page 18 of The Marquess of Temptation
"Is that you Hestia?" the woman, who Alex now placed as Mrs Actrol, authoress and sister to Lady Bedford, called.
Miss Bowstock jumped and quite possibly would have fled, if Jane had not borne down on her and embraced her in a warm hug. The wheels and cogs of Alex's brain were whirring away as he watched Jane speak with a nervous looking Belinda.
Hestia, that was what Mrs Actrol had called her. Hestia, the same name as the ward he was searching for, who had mysteriously disappeared. At that very moment he felt something nudging at his boot and looked down to see Henry licking his Hessians with gusto. He could have laughed at his stupidity --when he had visited with Lady Bedford, Mrs Actrol's sister, he had noted that the woman's many Cavaliers had reminded him of Belinda. He realised now that they had reminded him of Belinda because Hestia B. Stockbow and Miss Belinda Bowstock were one and the same.
Fury filled him. How had he been so blinded by the girl's charms that he had failed to see the most obvious clues before him. Bowstock was simply a crude alteration to the name Stockbow--and here he thought he could solve the mysteries of a dead language!
As Lord Payne and Miss Deveraux slipped, unobserved by most, out of the room, the Marquess made his way toward Hestia Stockbow, his mouth a line of grim determination.
"Are you acquainted with Mrs Actrol?" he asked, his tone deliberately light. Those who knew him well, knew that he was at his most dangerous when he acted this calm and controlled, because he was keeping a tight rein on his temper.
"Who?" a pair of big, blue eyes blinked innocently at him, and Alex had to hand it to Miss Stockbow, she did not even glance in Mrs Actrol's direction. Oh, she was very good at this, but he was better and he had the upper hand.
"Really?" he raised an eyebrow, "I thought she called out to you just there. Though she did address you by the wrong name."
"I-I-I don't know what you're talking about, my Lord," Hestia stated, her face pale and her lips trembling. If Alex hadn't been so annoyed at the chit, he would have felt pity toward her.
"I'm sure it was some sort of mix up," he replied, affecting a casual tone, "Come. Allow me to introduce you to Mrs Actrol properly. She's such a fascinating woman and she knows so many different types of people. I'm sure you'll find her most entertaining."
"No," Hestia replied, but Alex had a firm grip on her elbow and he steered her across the crowded drawing room to where the authoress sat. He was surprised that this Hestia Stockbow did not dig her heels into the Oriental rug to halt his progress, such was the look of terror on her face, but she meekly followed him, perhaps accepting that the game was up.
"It is you, Hestia, dear," Mrs Actrol exclaimed happily, as the Marquess deposited Miss Stockbow before her. She peered up at Hestia through her spectacles, her eyes misting with tears.
"My dear, give me a kiss on the cheek. I am mighty pleased to see you looking so well." Mrs Actrol boomed, for she seemed only speak in a voice that was louder than the average. "Despite all the hardships you have endured. I was most sorry to hear about your poor mother --and your father too-- Lord rest their souls."
Any feeling of self righteousness that Alex had possessed, fled at the sight of Hestia Stockbow's eyes, which filled with tears at Mrs Actrol's kind words of sympathy. He was a cad, he thought, a complete and utter cad to have subjected the poor girl to this. She was probably petrified, worried that she would lose her position as Jane's companion and end up cast out on the streets.
"And who is this?" Mrs Actrol squinted up at Alex, who drew himself to his full height before bending again in a most perfunctory bow.
"I am Falconbridge, Mrs Actrol," he said, casting Hestia a glance before he spoke again. "I am Miss Stockbow's guardian and future husband."
"You're her what?" Mrs Actrol spluttered, causing several heads to turn their way.
"I am the legal guardian of Miss Hestia B. Stockbow, as appointed by her father David Stockbow in his last will and testament," Falconbridge repeated slowly. "And, besides that, Miss Stockbow and I are to be wed. As soon as I return her to London and procure the necessary paperwork of course."
"Oh, of course," Mrs Actrol echoed him before breaking down into gales of laughter that wracked her generous frame. "Though, my Lord, you seem to have lost your ward.."
What? Alex looked to his right, where a second ago Hestia had been standing and found that she had disappeared; he scanned the room and spotted her closing the door to the hallway behind her as she fled.
"You'll have to keep a closer eye on that one, my Lord, if you're intent on making her your bride," Mrs Actrol offered her advice with a knowing smile. "For she's the daughter of a man who escaped capture for decades --don't think she didn't pick a trick or two up from old David."
The sound of the authoress' laughter followed Alex as he made his way out of the room, the fury he had been working so hard to control threatening to bubble over and cause a catastrophe.
