A Conformable Wife: A Regency Romance with a spirited heroine

by Alice Chetwynd Ley

  “I shall be sixteen in February, and that’s almost grown up, at any rate. But Mama says I must stay at Miss Mynford’s until the end of the summer term. Only in the following spring may Catherine bring me out in London. Oh, Miss Melville, it’s all so far off. I simply can’t wait that long!”

  “It will soon pass,” Henrietta consoled her. “And you couldn’t make your come-out before you are at least seventeen, you know. So you may as well be among your schoolfellows in Bath as kicking your heels at home with nothing to occupy you and very few companions of your own age.”

  “I suppose you are right, but I do so wish that…” She broke off, looking across at Aldwyn with so much open admiration in her eyes that Henrietta at once guessed how matters stood. She smiled; girls of Anna’s age were very prone to sudden attacks of fancy, and as far as she could see, it could do the girl no harm. No doubt it would be forgotten when the doors of Miss Mynford’s Seminary once more closed behind her, and she found other distractions.

  As Henrietta turned her attention to the others, she heard Mrs. Florey inviting Mr. Aldwyn to join a small evening party, which she was planning to hold in a few days.

  “Nothing formal, you know, Mr. Aldwyn, just a few of our neighbours. We have been meaning to introduce Sir Nicholas and Lady Melville to some of our friends. They have as yet made few acquaintances in the neighbourhood, having lived until lately in London. If we can prevail upon them to join us, that is. In country districts, neighbours should keep together, do you not agree, sir?”

  Aldwyn bowed. “Indeed I do, ma’am, and I shall be happy to make one of your party, if circumstances at Aldwyn Court permit.”

  Anna’s face glowed as she heard his reply, and she wondered if she could possibly prevail upon her mama to allow her to be present for at least part of the evening. It now being Monday, a tentative date for Friday was fixed upon. Henrietta would bear the invitation to her brother and sister-in-law. Mrs. Florey accordingly absented herself from the room for a few moments to pen a suitable note.

  While she was gone, Anna, greatly daring, moved into the chair left vacant beside Aldwyn. She was almost overcome with delight when he good-naturedly turned to address a few remarks to her. They were the merest commonplaces, but in her ears they sounded like heavenly music, and every word was treasured. Henrietta hoped sincerely that the father might fail to read the message that came over so clearly to herself, and that poor Anna would be spared the inevitable teasing that would result if her half-fledged admiration became known to her family.

  Youth was so very vulnerable, Henrietta reflected, and her thoughts went once more to the story she had heard of the youthful Julian Aldwyn’s sufferings. She had to acknowledge that this shadow of his past had somewhat influenced her opinion of him, presenting him to her in a more sympathetic light than her slight acquaintance with him could possibly have justified.

  But later it occurred to her that he seemed intent on cultivating that acquaintance; for when he escorted her back to the manor, he urged her to visit the castle again with him on the following day so that they could resume their interrupted exploration. It was a natural enough request, she supposed, and yet he seemed unduly insistent. She could scarcely flatter herself that he had conceived a sudden, wild passion for her, she reflected wryly; there was too much calmness, and even calculation, in his manner. No, it was most likely, as her brother thought, that Mr. Aldwyn was bored, being away from his London friends and pursuits, and had no congenial company at Aldwyn Court now that Almeria had returned to her home in Bath. That might account, too, for his willingness to accept an invitation to Mrs. Florey’s evening party, for Baron Aldwyn’s family and the Floreys had never been on any other than formal terms.

  She agreed to his suggestion, dismissing from her thoughts a small, uneasy feeling that it might not be wise for her to see too much of this new arrival to the neighbourhood. She was not altogether sorry, however, when the following day brought heavy rain, making the outing impossible. A note delivered at the manor from Mr. Aldwyn early in the day suggested a postponement until Wednesday or Thursday, whichever should prove most convenient to her. She returned an agreement, saying she would look to see him tomorrow, weather permitting.

  She then settled herself down to a day of reading, writing letters, and the dubious delights of Selina’s company. She was granted a respite from this, however, for the afternoon brought better weather, and before long, the Floreys’ coach drew up at the door of the manor, bringing Mr. and Mrs. Florey and Anna on a social call. They were received cordially by Sir Nicholas and his sister, but only condescendingly by Selina, as the Floreys came rather low on her list of desirable acquaintances. Still, she had no insuperable objection to accepting their invitation for Friday evening. It might even prove the very way to extend her circle in more rewarding ways.

  “And how is Ben today?” asked Henrietta, after the preliminary civilities.

  “Oh, he’s in the rudest of health, except that his ankle is not quite recovered, of course,” answered Mrs. Florey. “It takes more than a little tumble to affect Ben, I can tell you!”

  Lady Melville thereupon interrupted and engaged Mrs. Florey in a conversation from which neither seemed to derive much pleasure, leaving Anna the opportunity to discuss with Henrietta the subject that at present occupied the young girl’s mind to the exclusion of everything else.

  “Do you know, Miss Melville, how long Mr. Aldwyn is to stay in the neighbourhood?” she asked diffidently.

  “Certainly until Lord Aldwyn is sufficiently improved in health to attend to estate matters. I cannot say how long that may be — weeks or even months, possibly.”

  Anna’s face lit up at once. “Oh, capital! But then I shall be returning to school in a fortnight,” she added glumly.

  Henrietta suppressed a smile at the girl’s unthinking admission of interest. “Well, I know the thought of going back to school is rather apt to cast one into a fit of the dismals,” Henrietta said, sympathetically. “But I always found that no sooner was I actually there, than something interesting or amusing turned up. After all, it’s more fun being among a group of girls of your own age, don’t you agree? I’m sure you have many good friends.”

  “Yes, indeed I have, but that isn’t quite…” Anna’s voice trailed off, but after a moment she began again. “Do you not think, Miss Melville, that Mr. Aldwyn is very like Lord Orville?”

  “Like Lord Who?” repeated Henrietta, puzzled. “Is he someone with whom I’m acquainted?”

  Anna giggled. “No. That’s to say, he’s not someone you’ve met. He’s —”

  “Absurd girl, how can I possibly compare Mr. Aldwyn to someone I’ve never met! I ask you, Anna!”

  This only served to increase Anna’s giggles until her mother noticed. Mrs. Florey sent her daughter a reproachful glance.

  “Hush!” said Henrietta in a low warning tone. “Your mama has her eye upon you.”

  Anna tried in vain to stifle her mirth. “I can’t help it, Miss Melville. Oh, you’re so droll!”

  It was obvious that having started to giggle, Anna would find it difficult to overcome the attack, so Henrietta remarked loudly that she was sure Anna would like to see some of her sketches, and hurriedly shepherded the girl out of the room and into the library across the hall.

  “There, now you can laugh as much as you like!”

  She watched, smiling, while Anna took full advantage of this permission.

  “And now, my dear,” Henrietta said, when the worst of the fit was over, “perhaps you’ll explain: who is this mysterious nobleman?”

  “Oh, when you understand, you will laugh too, I promise you. I mean Lord Orville from Evelina, Miss Burney’s novel, you know! And when you said that you couldn’t t-trace a re-resemblance to — to —!” She dissolved into laughter again, and this time Henrietta joined her, though with less abandon.

  “No wonder you had me in a puzzle!”

  “I thought I should die laughing!” Anna showed signs of a
ttempting this feat afresh. “And, and Lady Melville and Mama and the others being there, only m-made it worse!”

  “Yes, it always does,” said Henrietta, chuckling. “It’s most irritating. The more sober the occasion, the more ready one is to succumb to inconvenient mirth. Well, I was very obtuse, wasn’t I? I should have recognised your literary allusion.”

  “Oh, as to that, there’s no reason why you should.” Anna was calmer now, having had her laugh out. “I happen to be reading the novel at present, so naturally it was in my mind. But what do you think, ma’am? Is Mr. Aldwyn not very like Miss Burney’s hero?”

  Henrietta shook her head decisively. “I would not say so.”

  “You wouldn’t?” Anna sounded surprised, almost shocked. “Oh, but he is everything that the author describes: handsome, elegant, and charming.”

  “Yes, he is all these things, but I think him too —” Henrietta paused to consider, then went on — “too virile, perhaps, to compare with the hero of Fanny Burney’s romance. Truth to tell, Anna, I’ve always thought Lord Orville an unrealistic character, unlike many of the others in that excellent book. He is such a prodigious paragon of all the virtues that no living, breathing man could ever match him! I dare say Mr. Aldwyn has his fair share of faults, like the rest of us. Though, of course, my acquaintance with him is of the slightest,” she added quickly.

  Anna thought this over in silence for a moment.

  “I dare say you may be right,” she admitted reluctantly. “But it does seem to me that Mr. Aldwyn is — oh, never mind! Do you really wish to show me your sketches?” she concluded, with a polite show of interest.

  “Heavens, no! I’m the poorest hand at sketching, and wouldn’t inflict my efforts on my worst enemy.”

  “I declare you’re like no one I know, Miss Melville! You are never in the least stuffy!”

  “I’ve had two younger sisters at home, you know. But come, I think we’d best return to the company now, do not you?”

  “Oh, must we? I would much rather stay here awhile and talk in private to you,” Anna pleaded.

  Henrietta wondered if this meant that she was about to be forced into enduring a further session of raptures over Mr. Aldwyn, but nevertheless she gave way.

  “If you wish. But possibly we’d better make some show of looking at my drawings, in case we are interrupted. We don’t wish to appear uncivil to the others.”

  Henrietta took down a bulky portfolio from a shelf and placed it on the table.

  “Now you may laugh as much as you choose,” she said, opening the volume at random. “I offer no prizes for your guesses as to what the subjects are meant to be.”

  “But these are not nearly so bad,” said Anna, slowly turning the pages. “Oh, look a ruined castle. How pretty!”

  “I’m amazed and flattered that you should recognise it, for it’s odiously poor! I suppose it’s too much to hope that you will be able to identify it? No matter, really. I’ve inscribed the name underneath.”

  Anna studied the inscription. “Why, Farleigh Hungerford castle! That’s where you and Mr. Aldwyn found Ben yesterday. Do you go there often, then, Miss Melville? This drawing is dated last year.”

  “It’s always been a favourite haunt of mine.”

  “I’ve never been there at all, but I’ve no interest in such places. That’s to say,” Anna hastily amended, recollecting that her hero had been interested enough to visit the castle, “I never did have, when I was younger, though I think I might like to see it now.”

  “Greater maturity does, of course, expand one’s interests,” replied Henrietta quizzically.

  “Oh, you are roasting me. It’s too bad of you. But I really do mean it.”

  “Well, possibly it can be arranged then,” said Henrietta on a sudden impulse. “Mr. Aldwyn and I are to go there again, either tomorrow or Thursday, whichever day the weather will be fine. Do you suppose your mama would permit you to accompany us?”

  Anna clasped her hands together in ecstasy. “Oh, would you really and truly take me? I should like it of all things! Oh, Miss Melville, you’re the greatest dear in the word!”

  “You may find it odiously boring, I must warn you,” laughed Henrietta.

  “Never! As if I could ever be bored in Mr. — that’s to say, in your company, Miss Melville! Oh, I do hope Mama will let me go. It would be so shabby if she did not. Besides quite ruining my holiday. Indeed, I shall tell her so!”

  “I beg you’ll do no such thing. You may set her against the scheme at once. Why not leave it to me to ask her permission?”

  Anna considered this then, realising Henrietta’s wisdom, agreed. Almost at the same moment, the door opened to reveal Mr. and Mrs. Florey, come to collect their daughter. They were about to take their leave. When Henrietta asked, they readily agreed to allow Anna to join in the excursion to Farleigh Hungerford.

  “You are very good to take her, Miss Melville, but pray, don’t permit her to make a nuisance of herself,” said Mrs. Florey. “We shall look forward to seeing you with us on Friday evening, as Lady Melville has graciously accepted my invitation to our small party.”

  After they had departed, Henrietta began to wonder why she had been so ready to include Anna in the outing. It was certainly not to encourage the girl in her sudden fit of worship for Mr. Aldwyn, although Henrietta took no serious view of this. She came to the reluctant conclusion that perhaps she had designed to protect herself from passing several hours in the sole company of Mr. Aldwyn. And it annoyed her to think so.

  Chapter VI

  Any disappointment Aldwyn felt at the inclusion of Anna in their outing was concealed with his usual polite address, and the girl was even more charmed by him. He was no more fortunate in getting Henrietta to himself at the Floreys’ party on Friday. Among the guests present were the Lavertons, a local family whom he had occasionally met in London where they had recently taken their pretty, dark-haired daughter of nineteen, Isabella. Henrietta noticed that Aldwyn spent some time by Isabella’s side. Not at all his type, she thought, but several times during the following weekend, she found herself wondering exactly what his type might be.

  Tuesday’s post brought a letter for Henrietta in a handwriting she could not at first recognise. When she opened it, glancing in curiosity at the signature, she saw that it was from Louisa Fordyce. With a pleased exclamation, she quickly scanned the contents.

  Louisa wrote to say that she had seen Almeria since her return home to Bath from Aldwyn Court, and that they had been speaking of Henrietta.

  “Our conversation gave me a great wish to see you again, my dear, and Almeria seemed to think that you would not be averse to a change of scene. So why do you not pay me a visit at my new home in Bath? I am on my own here and have no one to please but myself. Pray, say you will come — as soon as you like, for as long as you like. It cannot be too long a stay for me.”

  The rest of the letter accounted all the pleasant diversions they might share in Bath. Henrietta noticed that Louisa said little of her personal concerns; perhaps she was saving all her news for when they could indulge in a cosy tête-à-tête.

  “Who’s your letter from, Hetty?” asked her brother carelessly. “One of the girls?”

  “No, it’s from Louisa Fordyce — Louisa Randall, as she used to be. I dare say you won’t recall her, Nick, but she and I were very friendly at one time, before her family moved away from the neighbourhood. She’s been married and is now widowed and living in Bath. She writes inviting me to go and stay with her in Pulteney Street.”

  “Capital notion, I should think,” replied Sir Nicholas, turning to his newspaper again. “Dare say you’d like a change.”

  “Yes, indeed,” put in Selina promptly, with unwonted enthusiasm. “A change would do you good, Henrietta, and there is nothing to keep you here.”

  Henrietta knew quite well that her sister-in-law was always wishing her away, and she could not altogether blame Selina for this. Her mind reverted to the idea that had first come
to her after Almeria’s visit: she, too, might possibly set up an establishment for herself in Bath, just as Louisa had done. If she went to stay with Louisa, she would have an ideal opportunity for inspecting suitable properties and informing herself on other matters necessary to the scheme. Added to that, of course, would be the pleasure of having a congenial companion of her own age. There seemed nothing against her going — well, only a matter that she refused to acknowledge, even to herself.

  Her brother and his wife left shortly after breakfast on an errand, so Henrietta decided to walk into the village and pay some calls on the cottagers there. She had been doing this welfare visiting for many years, but nowadays she always tried not to obtrude it on Lady Melville’s notice, for fear of arousing resentment. She never went on these visits empty-handed, and on this occasion, so heavy was her basket with delicacies that the gardener’s boy, a stout lad of fourteen, had to be pressed into service to carry it.

  Her last call was on Mrs. Gurney, wife of one of the labourers on the home farm. The woman had been in poor health for some months from overwork and undernourishment. Beside her husband and a family of five young children, Mrs. Gurney had to care for an elderly father, and her husband’s wage of eight shillings a week allowed only a meagre diet of bread and potatoes.

  Although Henrietta feared she was wasting her breath, she laid strict injunctions on Mrs. Gurney to eat her share of the joint of beef that had just been taken from the basket.

  “For what is to become of them all if you don’t keep up your strength?” she demanded. “You’ll not wish Matty to leave her employment in Bath to take charge at home, I’m sure.”

  “Oh, no, ma’am, indeed I’d not serve poor Matty such a turn, and her so pleased with her place, which you was good enough to get for her, writin’ a letter to the school-ma’am, and all! She likes working at the school, Miss Melville. I’ll try to do as you say, ma’am, and thank you kindly for all them good victuals, and your trouble, too.”

  Henrietta took her leave, sending the gardener’s boy ahead with the empty basket while she walked back to the manor at a more leisurely pace. She was deep in thought as she reached the gates to the house, so she started a little when she heard herself addressed. She looked up to see Mr. Aldwyn coming toward her.