A Conformable Wife: A Regency Romance with a spirited heroine

by Alice Chetwynd Ley

  She sobered a little. “I don’t quite know. Louisa — Mrs. Fordyce —”

  “Sure, you’ll not be wanting to live in each other’s pockets,” he said soothingly. “I don’t doubt that Mrs. Fordyce will be quite content to spare you for an hour or so.”

  “I dare say, but it would be vastly uncivil in me not to mention it to her first, as I am her guest.”

  “Just so, ma’am. And may I wait on you later in the day to learn my fate?”

  The conversation ended at this point, for they were joined by others.

  To Henrietta’s surprise, Louisa seemed doubtful when she was told of the scheme.

  “Do you think it would be improper for me to drive out with a gentleman I’ve only just met?” teased Henrietta. “I’m not a Bath miss, you know!”

  “Not that, no, of course not. But Mr. Colby —” She broke off, frowning.

  “Do you know something to his discredit?” demanded Henrietta, her curiosity aroused by her friend’s reticence. “I realise that your previous acquaintance with him must make you a better judge of his character than myself, but for my own part, I must say I do so enjoy his company. He is so absurd!”

  “Yes, he is that, and knows well how to charm a woman. But, Hetty, don’t fall in love with him, will you? It would bring you nothing but misery!”

  “A womaniser, is he? Have no fear, my love, I am in no danger of losing my heart to the first agreeable rogue I meet. But did you not yourself bid me take a leaf from your book and learn to flirt a little?”

  Louisa relaxed and laughed. “I didn’t realise what an apt pupil you would prove, Hetty. Oh, very well, go with him if you wish.”

  Accordingly Henrietta went, and so much enjoyed the outing that she agreed to another a few days later. At the next Assembly ball, she danced no less than three times with Mr. Colby, a fact that did not go unremarked by the gossips of Bath. Fortescue, anxiously soliciting her hand for one of the remaining dances, was moved to protest.

  “Dash it, Miss Melville, you’re forgetting our bargain! That devilish Dyrham female has been cacklin’ to my aunt that you’re smitten with Colby, and now I’m in the suds! She’s been plaguin’ my life out either to cut the fellow out, or else to switch my attentions to someone else. Got her eye on someone, too: Miss Laverton. It’s the most devilish business, give you m’word!”

  “Well, you might do worse,” Henrietta consoled him. “Miss Laverton is an extremely pretty girl, and just the right age for you.”

  He groaned. “Don’t I tell you that I’ve no wish to fall into parson’s mousetrap? I did think I could rely on you to keep me clear of it, but I suppose I was a fool to trust a female!”

  “I’m truly sorry,” she said, laughing.

  He looked at her resentfully. “Must say, you sound it!”

  “Well, I’ll do my best to make amends by flirting with you outrageously for the rest of the dance,” she offered magnanimously, “if you’ll play up to me.”

  He brightened. “That’s the ticket. Always knew you were a right one.”

  He proceeded to give such a spirited imitation of a young man in the throes of desperate passion that Henrietta had the greatest difficulty in schooling herself to respond without laughing. She could not help noticing that several bystanders were watching this performance, among them Colby himself. She wondered what he made of it. It would do him no harm to see that she did not favour him above other gentlemen; at the same time, she studiously avoided considering whether or not his was true.

  The following morning brought Henrietta the first letter she had received from her brother since coming to Bath, a hastily scrawled page containing little news beyond the continued good health of himself and his family and an enthusiastic description of a new mare, which had recently been purchased by Mr. Florey.

  “There’s far more about the wretched animal than there is about Selina and the children,” she remarked, laughing to Louisa. “As though I could care a whit about prime steppers and rare bits of blood! But I tell you what, Louisa; it does put me in mind of Anna Florey. I still intend to call at Miss Mynford’s to solicit a half-holiday for the child. May I bring her here one afternoon? Perhaps your Mrs. Rudge would make some of her delicious little cakes; school fare is so depressingly stodgy and dull.”

  Louisa agreed readily to this suggestion, but was firm in refusing to accompany her friend on the visit to Miss Mynford.

  “Pray excuse me, Hetty, but you know I have the utmost dislike of raking over the past, and I know just how it will be: every feeling is revolted! But should you care to go this morning, I have an appointment for a fitting of my new spangled ball gown at Madame Blanche’s, and that is sure to occupy the best part of an hour, I dare say. We could go together to Milsom Street, and it’s but a step from there to Queen Square. Anna Florey may come this afternoon, if Miss Mynford agrees.”

  It was settled accordingly, and shortly afterwards Henrietta parted from her friend outside Madame Blanche’s premises. She had just turned the corner into Quiet Street when she heard someone speak her name and, turning, she saw Mr. Colby.

  “Where are you bound for, all alone?” he asked, surveying her with his mischievous look.

  She explained her errand.

  “Then may I walk there with you? I understand that the streets of Bath are extremely hazardous for unprotected young ladies.”

  “What, in full daylight? I never heard such nonsense! One may see females shopping here without escorts every day, as well you know, sir.”

  “Ah, but that was until today,” he replied solemnly.

  She threw him a suspicious glance. “And pray what has occurred today to alter the usual state of things? But need I ask! You’ve this moment invented it. You should be ashamed, Mr. Colby!”

  “Ashamed to invent reasons for the pleasure of walking beside you? Never, Miss Melville.”

  “You talk more nonsense, I believe, than any gentleman of my acquaintance,” she said severely.

  “More than young Fortescue?” he asked quickly.

  She laughed. “Mr. Fortescue is certainly a most entertaining gentleman.”

  “You seemed to find him extremely so at yesterday’s ball. I was in two minds whether or no I should call him out.”

  “Duelling has gone out of fashion, has it not?”

  “Not in Ireland,” he assured her.

  She was silent, wondering for a moment how well he had known Louisa in Ireland, and if she could possibly put the question to him. He seemed to sense her thoughts.

  “I dare say your friend Mrs. Fordyce will have told you a deal about life in that country.”

  She shook her head. “No, she never mentions it. But then, Louisa dislikes most of all things to dwell on the past. That was why she didn’t wish to accompany me today on my visit to our old schoolmistress.”

  “She is very wise,” he said with emphasis. “The present is all that matters.”

  Then he adroitly steered the conversation to more light-hearted topics, keeping Henrietta amused until they reached their destination.

  “What a remarkably handsome frontage that is,” he said, gazing at the buildings on the north side of the Square. “Indeed, the town is resplendent in fine building, altogether. Can you spare a moment, Miss Melville, to walk over to that obelisk in the centre of the square? I would like to see the inscription.”

  “By all means, if you wish, though I can almost recite it to you by heart. The obelisk was erected by Richard Nash in 1738 in honour of the Prince and Princess of Wales.”

  They walked together along one of the gravel paths bordered by symmetrical flowerbeds until they stood before the obelisk.

  “‘In memory of honours conferr’d and in gratitude for benefits bestow’d in this city,’” he read aloud. “H’m. I wonder now, did His Royal Highness come down handsomely to Nash himself in order to earn such an eulogy?”

  “I see you are somewhat of a cynic, Mr. Colby.”

  “Sure, you’ll succeed in making
out my character before long,” he said, twinkling at her again. “The prospect puts me all in a dither, I assure you, but if it’s a way of keeping you in my company, I’ll do my best to humour the inclination.”

  She smiled back, reflecting on the charming twinkle that so often lit his blue eyes.

  They retraced their steps to the school, where Colby, ringing the iron bell hanging outside the door, declared that it put him in mind of a nunnery.

  “No doubt you frequently visit nunneries?” asked Henrietta demurely.

  He was laughing as the door opened to reveal a little housemaid in mob cap and apron, whose face lit up as she saw Henrietta.

  “Why, Matty!” exclaimed Henrietta. “I did not expect to see you on the doorstep! And how are you?”

  “I’m nicely, thankee, Miss Melville. Didn’t ought to answer the door by rights, but the footman didn’t come, an’ bein’ as I was in the ’all —” She broke off, shrinking, as an imposing figure in livery bore down upon her. He gestured her imperiously away. She scuttled off with a smile and a backward glance for the visitors.

  “I shall hope to be allowed the pleasure of escorting you back to Milsom Street, ma’am, after your call is made,” said Colby, bowing to Henrietta as she was admitted to the house. “I shall be strolling about in the vicinity meanwhile.”

  Miss Mynford was delighted to see her ex-pupil. Unlike her friend, Henrietta found it no penance to recall her schooldays; indeed, on reflection she decided that it was perhaps the most carefree period of her life until very recently, when she had left Westhyde Manor for Bath. And even here, in spite of her new-found freedom, there were disturbing moments.

  Anna was presently summoned. She was very much on her best behaviour, as befitted a girl in the presence of her headmistress, but still managed to convey something of the eagerness with which she received Miss Melville’s invitation to spend an afternoon at Mrs. Fordyce’s house. Any respite from the monotony of the schoolroom was welcome of course, but this particular outing held a special appeal for her.

  “Miss Melville has kindly arranged for a coach to call for you at two o’clock,” Miss Mynford informed her pupil in her magisterial way. “The maid Matilda will accompany you, and you must return to school punctually at five o’clock. You will wear your best white muslin, and I trust I need not remind you to conduct yourself in the manner I expect from all my young ladies. That is all. Make your thanks to Miss Melville and then you may leave us.”

  Thus adjured, Anna expressed her gratitude in a few formally polite phrases and made her very best curtsey before quitting the sanctum. Once outside the door, she gave vent to her feelings in a deep sigh of relief, only wishing that it might have been possible to let out a loud whoop and jump for joy. She was to be free of restraint for a whole afternoon, and moreover, for once she would be able to talk about her hero to her heart’s content. She fell into a pleasant reverie, wondering what he was doing now and if she would ever be fortunate enough to see him again.

  Chapter XVI

  Julian Aldwyn, with a gun over his arm and a weary but contented dog at his heels, strode through the ancient stone archway that led into the gardens of Aldwyn Court. The imminent arrival of his sister Jane with her husband and entire family had thrown him into such a fit of gloom that he had felt obliged, as he put it to his father, to go out and shoot something.

  “Don’t blame you, m’boy,” Lord Aldwyn agreed. “Damme, if I felt equal to it, I’d join you, but I’m not quite in prime twig yet, more’s the pity. Much improved, of course, though there’s no saying but what your sister’s visit won’t cause me to suffer a relapse. Why the devil your mother should agree to it passes my understanding! But there we are, she don’t realise what a trial I find Jane and her brood. Hyde’s not a bad chap; dull, of course, but don’t jaw your head off, like my daughter. God knows who she takes after; not myself, I trust, and your mother’s a peaceful woman enough.”

  In truth, the threatened visit of the Hydes was only adding to a subdued mood that Aldwyn had been experiencing ever since Henrietta Melville had rejected his proposal of marriage. It was intolerable, he thought angrily, that after screwing himself up to the point of offering for the wretched female when he had no real wish to marry her — or anyone else, for that matter — she should have turned him down without a second’s hesitation. And just as he had begun to think that they would deal admirably together, in view of their many shared interests and the possession of a similar sense of humour. A sense of humour was a rare virtue among females, in his experience, and it could add greatly to the comfort of domestic life. Indeed, he had even begun to envisage a time when he might become quite fond of Henrietta Melville, for she had many endearing characteristics.

  But what must the silly creature do but throw all these rational, comfortable prospects aside for the sake of a foolish, romantic whim? In her situation, one would have supposed that she would grasp eagerly at a man so obviously a brilliant match for her. It was not as though she disliked him personally; there had been many little evidences of friendship that had encouraged him to hope for an acceptance. But there it was, friendship was not enough for her, and as he had no stronger feelings to offer, that must be the end of the matter.

  In his first fit of pique, he had looked about the neighbourhood for other likely candidates, and taken to calling on the Lavertons. Isabella Laverton was pretty enough to please any man, she would certainly make a suitable future mistress of Aldwyn Court, and she seemed to have an agreeable disposition. She was, however, too much like all those other young ladies whom he had met in London for him to view the prospect of marriage to her with any enthusiasm. He was relieved, therefore, when she and her parents left for Bath before there had been time for his visits to raise any serious expectations. He needed more time to consider. It was the devil’s own business, he thought, to know that he must marry, yet to have no smallest inclination for it.

  The Hydes arrived later in the day, and at once the house was in an upheaval. Jane kissed her parents and Julian rapturously, then began fussing over the children.

  As soon as he could, Aldwyn escaped from the house and rode over to Westhyde Manor. He had not been there so frequently since Miss Melville had departed for Bath, but now he felt the inclination to hear some news of her.

  He was not to be disappointed, for Sir Nicholas had lately received a letter from his sister, and was soon volunteering information.

  “Kicking up no end of larks, by the sound of it,” he said, laughing. “Balls, concerts, evening parties, driving out with admirers — not that she calls ’em so, but why else should a fellow drive a female around? Dare say she may find a husband before long. Trust she will, for Hetty was never cut out to be an old maid.”

  “I’m delighted to hear she’s been kept entertained,” replied Aldwyn sourly.

  The truth was that he felt far from delighted, though on his way home he failed to discover any reason for this.

  Miss Melville had confided to him her desire to lead a new life free from duties and responsibilities; at the time, he had acknowledged that she certainly had earned some such change. Yet now, when it seemed her aspirations were realised at last, his attitude was grudging.

  Admirers! he thought resentfully, jerking his horse’s head so sharply that the animal suddenly shied. But why not? There was something — yes, damn it all! — something about her that drew forth affection, if not that more heady feeling against which he was determined to guard himself. She might well meet some man who would wish to marry her for love rather than as a matter of convenience. It was much more probable in Bath than here, in this restricted rural community.

  His jaw set with determination. He would not relinquish her to some other man without putting up some show of resistance, damned if he would! He would go to Bath himself. In any event, he had no pleasure in staying at Aldwyn Court while the Hydes were visiting. Almeria would welcome him, or if his visit should prove inconvenient to her, he could always put up at one of t
he town’s excellent hotels.

  When he reached home, he informed his father of this intention.

  “Bath, eh?” said Lord Aldwyn, with a knowing look. “Didn’t you say the Lavertons were there, m’boy? Yes, go by all means.”

  When Aldwyn presented himself on the following morning at his sister’s house in Bath, he was welcomed even more cordially than he had hoped.

  “Devilish awkward of me, I know, turning up like this without a word of warning,” he said apologetically as he embraced her. “But if it puts you out to have me here, I can easily quarter at one of the inns. York House and the White Hart both provide excellent dinners —”

  “You’ll do no such thing!” declared Almeria emphatically. “There’s plenty of room for you and your servants — I suppose you’ve brought your man and a groom with you? Yes, well, I’ll instruct the housekeeper to make the front guest bedchamber ready at once. Giles, do you look after Julian while I see to it.”

  She sailed out of the room, full of housewifely importance, while Sir Giles ordered some liquid refreshment.

  “And what brings you here in such a pelter?” asked Sir Giles, grinning. “Escaping from your creditors or some too importunate female?”

  “Escaping from m’sister Jane’s damnable brats,” corrected Aldwyn, taking a long pull at the foaming tankard that had been placed for him. “Another day of ’em would have turned me into a fit subject for Bedlam! I only hope they may not cause my father to suffer a relapse.”

  “They’re certainly resty little devils, by what I’ve seen of ’em,” conceded Sir Giles, stretching his long legs comfortably before him.

  “It ain’t so much that, it’s Jane’s absurd attitude toward ’em. Only to be expected that lads will be high spirited, of course, but they must learn to keep in line, and no one in that household seems prepared to instruct ’em. I think Hyde would like to take a hand, but Jane’s got him in her pocket. Same with their nursemaid: wretched woman’s got no authority.”