in Buckingham Palace, but now she was in deep mourning and there would be no presentation and no balls.
Nor were there the invitations she might have had from her mother’s and D’Arcy’s friends in the County.
To be in deep mourning was a fashion set by Queen Victoria and Belinda looked dolefully at her black gowns and longed to throw them away.
She did not realise that they accentuated the whiteness of her skin and the gold of her hair, but all they did was to remind her that she had lost both her father and her mother.
She was now all alone, day after day, week after week.
Then D’Arcy came back.
She thought he seemed much more like his old self, being witty and making her laugh.
He told her stories about the parties that were taking place in London and he told her of the plays being performed in the theatres and who were the latest beauties to captivate the Social world.
However, he did not stay long.
Before he left, although he said nothing to Belinda, she was aware that he had taken her mother’s jewellery from the safe.
The day he was leaving she said to him,
“I hope, Step-Papa, you will give me some money before you go. The servants have not been paid their wages for two weeks.”
She paused a moment and sighed before continuing,
“There is also a very fine horse for sale that I would like to buy to replace Rufus, who is getting old. Perhaps you could have a look at him before you leave tomorrow?”
For a moment there was silence.
Then D’Arcy Rowland replied,
“I realise Rufus is getting a bit long in the tooth, but frankly, my dear, we cannot afford to buy any more horses at the moment.”
Belinda looked at her stepfather in surprise.
She had never worried about money.
She had always known that her father was well off.
They could have anything they wanted, although their tastes were certainly not extravagant.
She did not speak, but she guessed that her stepfather guessed what she was thinking.
“I have been going through a rather bad patch lately,” he said as if he must explain. “I lost a packet on several dead certainties and I have not been particularly fortunate with baccarat just when it is essential that I should be!”
“But surely there is money in the bank?” Belinda questioned.
There was an uncomfortable silence before D’Arcy Rowland replied,
“Actually we are overdrawn, and the Bank Manager has written to ask me to put things straight as soon as possible.”
It was then, like a flash of lightning, that Belinda knew why her stepfather had taken her mother’s jewellery from the safe.
She had not liked to ask him the reason, although she knew he had taken it. She had thought that perhaps he intended to have it reset for her to wear.
Without stopping to think, she said the first words that came into her head.
“And so you are selling Mama’s jewellery? Oh – no!
No!
You cannot do that!”
Her stepfather went to the window and stood with his back to her.
“I am sorry, Belinda, but I
have
to. It is not only the bank, but I also owe money in the Club which, as you know, is a debt of honour.”
Belinda drew in her breath.
Her father had explained to her a long time ago what a debt of honour meant to a gentleman. Most important was that he should never owe money to a fellow member of his Club or to a brother Officer.
Then neither of them spoke for a long time.
Then Belinda asked in a frightened whisper,
“W-what are you – going to do?”
Captain D’Arcy turned round and he was smiling.
“You are not to worry yourself,” he said. “I will see to it. I shall have some money by next week and I will come back here. If the horse you want is still for sale, I will buy it for you.”
He paused before he added,
“You might tell the owner that is what I intend to do.”
“You are sure you will be able to do that?” Belinda asked him eagerly.
“Of course I am sure!” he answered. “Has my luck ever failed me?”
He put his hand on her shoulder