A Conformable Wife: A Regency Romance with a spirited heroine

by Alice Chetwynd Ley

Almeria had come back into the room in the middle of this speech and endorsed her brother’s views. “How would you like to occupy the rest of the morning? Giles and I were about to stroll down to the Pump Room. You may meet some old acquaintances there,” she concluded meaningfully.

  “H’m, I’ve not much acquaintance in the town to my knowledge,” he replied, not wishing to understand her.

  “Oh, come, now, this will not do! Sir Richard and Lady Laverton are here with their daughter Isabella, and you can’t pretend that you won’t know them, since you’ve been acquainted with them for most of your life!”

  “True, I was aware that they had come to Bath. But one swallow, my dear, doesn’t make a summer.”

  “There’s another swallow, too, if that’s not an oddly inadequate way of describing her. I mean Henrietta Melville,” persisted Almeria, determined to force some reaction from him. “And when you do see her, I dare say you —” She broke off suddenly. She had been about to say that he might indeed find it difficult to recognise Henrietta, so changed was she now from the dowdy female whom he had met at Westhyde Manor. But her sense of mischief prompted her to let him make this discovery for himself. It would serve him right, she thought impishly. He’d been far too secretive about his dealings with Henrietta. Yet, Almeria did not care to put a direct question to him on that matter, hoping instead that he would readily confide in her after a few days under the same roof.

  He sensed that she was holding something back. “Dare say I’ll what?”

  She shrugged. “Oh, nothing of consequence.”

  He was content to avoid the subject of Miss Melville. Knowing his sister’s disposition, he was well aware that she was bursting with curiosity as to whether or not he had made her friend an offer. At present, he was in no mood to enlighten her. Was it not enough that a man should have made a fool of himself over one woman in his lifetime? The only saving grace in this second affair was that his heart had not been broken. Perhaps that was something that could happen only once. Remembering the grief and suffering of that boyhood affair, he fervently hoped so. At all events, he had no intention of making himself vulnerable ever again.

  Almeria could not guess what was passing through his mind, but she did notice his grim expression, and her hopes faded. Evidently there had been some hitch in her splendid plan to make a match between him and Henrietta. No doubt when it came to the point, he had been unable to carry through his cold-blooded scheme to marry for convenience only. She of all people realised that underneath his cynical facade, her brother was a warm-hearted, affectionate man, who needed to love and be loved in return. Surely somewhere there must exist a woman who could truly care for him, whose love might succeed in breaking down the barriers he had raised to protect himself? She had thought that Henrietta, herself a loving individual with no present object for her affections, would be the very one to lead him to happiness. She sighed; there was little she could do to help him, it seemed.

  She soon recovered her spirits as they all strolled down to the Pump Room, entertaining him with Bath gossip in the intervals of meeting and greeting passing acquaintances. There was much more of this once they reached the crowded Pump Room, so that Aldwyn began to feel almost as confused as Henrietta had at first.

  “For God’s sake, Almeria don’t introduce me to anyone else,” he said at last. “I’ve done nothing but bow and smirk for the past half hour!”

  “I promise you I will not,” she said, laughing. “Now at last you shall meet someone whom you already know quite well: Henrietta Melville.”

  An enigmatic expression appeared on his face. “Indeed. Where is the lady?”

  “Over there by that pillar, in conversation with three gentlemen and a lady. But I fear you don’t at all know two of the men and you’ll have forgotten the lady, as it’s so many years since you last met her. She’s Louisa Fordyce, the Randalls’ daughter. Louisa was at school with Henrietta and myself, and Hetty is her guest at present.”

  “Yes, I remember the Randalls, though I’ve no recollection at all of their daughter. But I don’t see the group you mean. At least, I see a group of five persons by the pillar, but Miss Melville is not among them.”

  “Are you quite sure?” asked Almeria in a teasing voice. “Pray look again, more closely!”

  His gaze switched from one to the other of the two ladies in the group, then came to rest incredulously on the one attired in a stylish royal blue merino pelisse trimmed with fur and a tall, crowned bonnet decorated with ostrich feathers. At that moment her face turned toward him, and there could be no mistake.

  “Good God!” he exclaimed weakly. “Can that be Miss Melville?”

  Almeria studied his expression with some satisfaction. “Yes, quite a change in her, is there not? But come, we’ll go and speak to her.”

  Sir Giles had become caught up in conversation with two other gentlemen, so brother and sister made their way across the room toward the group. As they drew nearer, Henrietta looked up and saw them.

  Her expression, which had been animated, changed all at once. She and Aldwyn looked into each other’s eyes; hers were shy, his incredulously admiring. Colby, standing close beside her, was instantly on the alert, watching them.

  “Henrietta, here is my brother come to renew his acquaintance with you. He’s staying with me for a few days.”

  Aldwyn bowed and Henrietta inclined her head in response, but for the moment, neither found anything to say beyond a formal greeting. He was studying her face, attractively framed by the becoming bonnet and the soft curls that clustered under it onto her forehead. It struck him that he had never before realised how lovely she was.

  For her part, Henrietta was making an effort to disregard a strong feeling of embarrassment and to appear unconcerned. Almeria assisted her in this by presenting Julian to the other members of the group: Louisa, Colby, and Fortescue. Captain Barclay was already known to Aldwyn from previous visits to Bath. During the general conversation that followed, Henrietta recovered her poise sufficiently to talk and laugh with Colby and Fortescue. Aldwyn observed this performance without any outward show of interest, meanwhile taking his part in the conversation of the group.

  “You will certainly bring your brother to the Assembly ball tomorrow evening, will you not, Almeria?” asked Louisa in full hearing of the others. “Are you fond of dancing, Mr. Aldwyn?”

  “I wouldn’t rate my feelings on the matter quite so high, ma’am,” he replied with a laugh. “Dancing is well enough, but I suspect it was really invented for the pleasure of the ladies.”

  “I must disagree with you, my dear sir,” Colby challenged him. “There are few more delightful experiences than stepping down a ballroom with a charming partner.”

  “Rather sit down to a hand of cards, myself,” said Fortescue. “That is —” turning to Henrietta with belated gallantry — “most times I would, but I hope to be privileged to lead you out tomorrow evening, Miss Melville.”

  Aldwyn darted a swift glance at him, a slight frown wrinkling his brow.

  “And may I add my name, ma’am,” said Colby, bowing sedately but with a mischievous twinkle in his blue eyes, “to the doubtless long list of applicants for the favour? Now pray, don’t say you have no dances left!”

  Aldwyn’s frown turned to something suspiciously like a scowl, but recollecting himself, he speedily banished it, smoothly informing Louisa that he certainly intended to be present at the ball, and he hoped to be allowed to dance with her. She gave the assurance readily enough, and the conversation turned to other topics.

  Presently Sir Giles and the Hinton-Wellows joined the group, and soon George Hinton-Wellow was carrying on his usual flirtations with every female present except, of course, his wife. As neither Captain Barclay nor Aldwyn had any taste for watching this kind of exhibition, by common consent they drew a little apart and fell into conversation.

  They discovered several mutual sporting interests, and made an appointment to meet and go together to watch a boxing cont
est on Claverton Down.

  “Barrington’s unluckily engaged elsewhere on that day,” said the captain, “otherwise he was to accompany me. I’ll take you up in my curricle, if you like, Aldwyn. Don’t know what kind of vehicle you’ve brought with you, but no place for a chaise, as I needn’t tell you. Too devilish crowded.”

  “I’ve brought my own curricle, as a matter of fact. But thank you, I’ll be glad to accept your offer.” He paused, looking back at the group just behind them. “Who is that fellow — forget his name — the one standing beside Miss Melville? Does he reside in the town?”

  The captain cast an unloving look at Colby. “Name of Colby. Putting up at the York House Hotel. Came into the town a few weeks back, don’t know from where. Don’t know much about him, in fact, but he’s one of Hinton-Wellow’s cronies. He met the chap at that gambling hell close to the theatre, shouldn’t wonder; goes there a bit. So does young Fortescue, silly halfling!”

  “I seem to think I’ve seen him somewhere before — Colby, I mean,” said Aldwyn musingly. “Can’t just place him at the moment, though. The name ain’t familiar. Doubtless it will come back to me.”

  The captain agreed. “Don’t mind admitting to you I don’t care for the fellow above half,” he went on. “Maybe I’m imagining things, but I get the impression that Mrs. Fordyce is made uneasy by him.”

  Aldwyn glanced at the group again and saw that Colby was standing very close to Miss Melville and laughing with her.

  “Do you? Well, it may be because she don’t care to see him paying such very particular attentions to her friend Miss Melville. Not,” he added dryly, “that the fellow seems to be alone in that.”

  “If you refer to Hinton-Wellow, he’s always making up to the females. Sort of chap who can’t help himself; nauseating! Some husband will give him a leveller one day, and I only hope I’m there to see it. Like to do it myself, matter of fact, but it ain’t any of my business.”

  Sir Giles and Almeria came over to them to say that they were ready to leave. Aldwyn readily agreed, and a distant bow to Henrietta was all he attempted by way of leave-taking.

  Chapter XVII

  “Almeria’s brother is a most personable man, is he not?” asked Louisa when they were once more at home. “I suppose you met him occasionally while Almeria and he were staying at Aldwyn Court. Is he as agreeable as his looks suggest?”

  “My acquaintance with him is really very slight, but, yes, he is certainly agreeable.”

  “I did not think you could have known him very well. You had so little to say to each other. In truth, there seemed a certain coldness in your reception of him. Is there perhaps something about him which you don’t quite like?”

  “No such thing. As far as my knowledge of him goes, he has everything to recommend him that a gentleman should have: good looks and address, an estimable character. And moreover, a sister of whom I’m especially fond. There, will that satisfy you?”

  Louisa smiled. “Not quite. There is an underlying reticence in your praise that gives me the impression you’re keeping some matters hidden.”

  “Then we may cry quits, my dear, for I have the very same impression when you are speaking of Mr. Colby,” retorted Henrietta with a laugh.

  Louisa’s expression altered. “Yes, well —” She broke off, staring into space for a while. Henrietta watched her curiously, but wisely refrained from prompting her to continue, knowing that if she did so, Louisa would most likely turn the subject off with a laugh and a shrug. Her forbearance was rewarded, for presently Louisa once more took up the conversation.

  “Hetty,” she continued, with a serious look, “are you quite sure that you’re in no danger of falling in love with — Colby? He is a man who knows to a nicety how to charm women, and you have little enough experience of such men, I dare say. I would not have you hurt for anything! Not even if I were obliged —” She broke off again, evidently in agitation.

  “If you were obliged to do what?” Henrietta could not resist the question, but it brought no intelligible response.

  “Oh, nothing,” replied Louisa with a despondent shrug.

  “Well, my love, I wouldn’t wish to oblige you to do nothing.” Then, seeing that her friend could not even force a smile at this modest quip, she continued, “Come, there’s no need to look so serious! Haven’t I told you already that I’m merely indulging myself in a harmless little flirtation? I am just getting into the way of it, you know, what with Mr. Colby and young Fortescue! I might even spread my wings wider still and attempt to draw Mr. Burke into the game. But, no! I fear he’s not the man for light dalliance.”

  She had the satisfaction of seeing Louisa’s expression lighten.

  “What an abandoned female you are become! Is this all my doing, am I to suppose?”

  “Not quite all, for I came to Bath with the fixed intention of enjoying all those frivolous pleasures that I missed in my first youth. But you’ve proved an apt mentor, I must say!”

  At that Louisa laughed outright.

  “I fear Mr. Fortescue stole a march on the captain by offering to take us up in his carriage tomorrow evening for the ball,” went on Henrietta. “I don’t know if you noticed Captain Barclay’s face, but if looks could have killed, Fortescue would have dropped dead on the spot!”

  “Yes, I did see he was not best pleased. Moreover, it’s not nearly such a convenient arrangement for us from any point of view. And who could wish to share a carriage with Lady Bellairs?”

  “Not I, certainly. But I didn’t like to refuse, in view of my promise to help Fortescue with his aunt. I wonder, though, how he thinks it will all end? She is bound to be pestering him presently to make me an offer, and then what is he to do?”

  “Oh, I believe he’s a young man who considers that trouble postponed is trouble averted. As long as he’s gained a breathing space, he’ll let the future take care of itself. I think, you know,” said Louisa thoughtfully, “that I’m of a similar disposition myself. It has much to recommend it.”

  In her present mood, Henrietta was inclined to agree.

  Punctually at a quarter to eight on the following evening, a smart town coach with a crest on its panels drew up before Louisa’s house. Fortescue, looking extremely handsome in knee breeches and an impeccably cut dark blue coat, which set his fair hair off to advantage, leapt out of the carriage to follow the footman to the door. The ladies soon appeared on the threshold and were courteously escorted to their seats.

  Lady Bellairs greeted them affably, remarking on their charming appearance. “And what do you think of Roger, Miss Melville?” she asked. “Does he not appear to prodigious advantage in evening dress? I know you’ve never seen him in that particular coat, which was ordered especially to please a certain lady not so very far from here. And pray what is the point of going to all that trouble and expense,” she demanded, seeing her nephew make a repressive gesture, “if I am not to draw anyone’s attention to it?”

  Fortescue muttered an imprecation and fidgeted with his gloves. Feeling sorry for him, Henrietta was about to make some frivolous remark, but she was swept aside.

  “So I hear Lady Barrington’s brother has arrived in Bath,” continued Lady Bellairs. “Miss Dyrham tells me he is heir to a title and a large estate situated not many miles away. It seems he’s a bachelor into the bargain — though such an eligible party will prove hard to get, mark my words. A gal can’t be too careful, either, about setting her cap at others whose birth and circumstances are not so well known. I refer to another new arrival to the town, Mr. Colby.”

  Henrietta and Louisa exchanged a quick glance, and Fortescue looked even more uncomfortable than before, if such a thing were possible.

  “May recall, Aunt,” he interrupted with an apologetic air, “I did mention to you that Colby was known to Mrs. Fordyce before he came to Bath.”

  “So you did, Roger. Well, in that case, ma’am, you can enlighten us as to the young man’s antecedents?”

  Louisa’s chin went up. �
�I suggest you apply to the gentleman himself, my lady,” she replied coldly. “I have no information to offer on the subject.”

  “Hoity toity! There’s no occasion to get in a miff, Mrs. Fordyce! It is only right and proper that young ladies should know something of the men whom they are meeting, so that they may not be taken in by encroaching mushrooms. That is why I was so careful to give you, Miss Melville, an account of my nephew’s birth and expectations. You are not perhaps in your first youth, but you are still young enough to require the guidance of an older woman in these matters. Mrs. Fordyce is a married woman, of course, and as such must be considered capable of looking after her own affairs, but she is scarcely old enough to take you in her charge.”

  “For pity’s sake, Aunt!” interjected Fortescue, looking thoroughly abject.

  Henrietta had been about to make a sharp retort, but seeing his misery, she bit it back and laughed instead.

  “I appreciate your concern, madam, but believe me, I need no one to take me in charge. Now tell me, how is your health, Lady Bellairs?” she went on, quickly turning the subject to one that Fortescue told her was of overwhelming interest to his aunt. “Do you find the hot bath is of much benefit to you? Are your rheumatics at all improved since you began to take the cure?”

  The ruse succeeded, and though the ensuing monologue — skilfully fed with brief comments by Henrietta from time to time — was of no greater interest to the coach party, at least she was free of further embarrassment.

  “I positively refuse to return with that woman!” exclaimed Louisa emphatically as they stood together in the cloakroom, having evaded Lady Bellairs once they entered the Rooms. “How you bear with her, Hetty, passes my comprehension!”

  “I do so only for her nephew’s sake. Poor young man, it must be a sore trial to possess such an uninhibited, not to say rude, relative! Never fear. We’ll find some excuse to return in Captain Barclay’s carriage; I’m sure he’ll be only too ready to contrive something, if I explain how matters are. And he is a gentleman on whom one can confidently rely, don’t you think?”