He studied her dubiously for a moment. She was overplaying her part, of course — artful female. But underneath he sensed some genuine feelings of hurt and disappointment. Perhaps he owed her an explanation.
“Very well, I’ll tell you the whole.” His tone was resigned. “But it may take some time.”
Almeria indicated that she had all the time in the world to spare for him, and settled down to listen. During the early part of the recital, she restrained herself as much as possible from any kind of interruption, tempted though she frequently was to comment.
She soon learned of all that had passed before Henrietta’s arrival in Bath, and felt that she had formed a tolerably accurate understanding of events.
“It wasn’t only Jane’s brats who drove me to come here,” he confessed. “They were simply the means of hardening a resolution I’d been forming not to let matters between Miss Melville and myself come to an end so easily. She and I dealt so famously together, seemed so well suited — in short, I determined to make one more throw for success, woo her, if necessary.” He gave a snort of contempt. “Woo her! I had no notion that I should find plenty of other men about the same business,” he went on bitterly. “Of course, I found her vastly changed from the dowdy female I first knew. She’d become instead an attractive, desirable woman, whom any man — well, no matter for that! But her character seemed changed, and she was flirting outrageously with every Tom, Dick, and Harry who came in her way. Of course, she had told me before that she intended to try a new way of life, become a different person, so I suppose I was fairly warned.”
Almeria shook her head vigorously. She could not let this pass without comment.
“Of course her character’s not changed, just because she wishes to enjoy herself some! Why, I myself flirted outrageously during my London season, and so I suppose does every young girl, given the opportunity. But Hetty never had the opportunity to behave as a young girl; she was obliged always to act sensibly and with a maturity beyond her years. Can you truly find it in your heart to blame her if just for a short space she attempts to recapture the lost delights of those earlier years? She would never be satisfied with that way of life forever, as you surely must realise if you’ve arrived at any understanding of her true nature.”
He was silent for a time, digesting what she had said.
“Well, you may be right,” he acknowledged presently, “but all the same, it sickens me to witness it! Why, only just now, as I rode home, I passed her with that young chap Fortescue in a curricle, making eyes at him for all she was worth. And he still wet behind the ears! Faugh!”
“Oh, Fortescue!” exclaimed Almeria and burst out laughing.
“Why, what’s so amusing?” he demanded irritably. “Making a cake of herself, I call it!”
“I see I shall have to explain it to you,” said his sister, and proceeded to do so.
“And perhaps you’ll see from that,” she concluded, “how little Hetty’s character has changed, for since first I knew her, she was always ready to lend a helping hand. How we’ve laughed over this, the three of us! Louisa’s in the secret, too, of course.”
“Well, of all the cork brained notions! That young fellow must have windmills in his head, and Miss Melville too! But, good God!” he exclaimed, belatedly realising the implications of what she had just confided to him. “I flung an accusation at her yesterday — oh, but I’d better tell you about that too. Might as well make a clean breast of the whole!”
He proceeded to give her a full account of yesterday’s quarrel for, like Henrietta, he could recall every word. When he had finished, she was shaking her head and looking grave.
“Oh, dear. You said some monstrous things.”
“Realise that now, of course,” he said awkwardly. “Although I believed them at the time. Felt as angry as fire, I can tell you.” He hesitated a moment, then went on. “Do you think she does mean to marry Burke? Seems to me she’s receiving his attentions seriously — making no effort to repulse him, at any rate, and certainly not treating it as one of these light flirtations that you seem to think —” he gave her a provocative grin — “will do her so much good.”
Almeria considered for a moment.
“It is difficult to say,” she replied at last. “I don’t think Henrietta will ever marry without affection. But whether she has any such feeling for our neighbour Burke —”
“No,” interrupted her brother explosively. “Any feelings she has are for that damned worthless fellow Colby! She’s positively infatuated with him!”
“Did she tell you so?”
“I don’t need telling. I can trust the evidence of my own eyes.”
“Well, I would have said that is only a flirtation,” pronounced Almeria. “I don’t believe either party is serious.”
“He’s certainly not. Fellow’s after her fortune, as I informed her.”
“That must have placed you high in her favour,” remarked Almeria ironically.
“As I told you, she said she never wished to speak to me again.”
She looked up at him with a pleading expression in her eyes. “Julian, couldn’t you possibly bring yourself to apologise to her?”
He hesitated. “For some things, though not for all,” he said presently, with a sudden flash of his eyes. “It’s true that I went about the business badly. Vented my spleen instead of sticking to the matter of warning her against Colby, as I’d intended at the start. I was uncivil and un-gentlemanlike, and I’d apologise for that, if I thought it would do any good. But I told you what she finally said: she won’t hear me.”
“Perhaps I could —”
“Oh, no, you don’t, sister!” he interrupted her firmly. “Damned if I’ll hide behind any woman’s skirts! I got myself into this devilish mess, and I’ll get myself out of it. Seems the best thing is for me to clear off. People will certainly notice when we blatantly ignore each other. Less embarrassing all round if I leave Bath.”
This was the last thing Almeria wanted; Julian had revealed a great deal more to her discerning inner eye than he could realise.
“Well, of course it won’t be possible for you to ignore each other completely, as Henrietta herself must realise when she has time to consider the matter. The forms of civility must be observed. But since you’ve never given the impression in company of sharing anything more than a very slight acquaintance, I’m sure that no change will be noticed by anyone in our circle.”
“That may be so, but what is the point of my remaining here? I’ve told you what I had in mind when I arrived. There’s no prospect now of furthering that scheme!”
“One never knows,” said Almeria cryptically. “In any event, if you’re still seeking a wife, you’re more likely to find one in Bath than at Aldwyn Court. There are scores of eligible young ladies here.”
“Truth to tell, I’m more disinclined for marriage than ever, sister. However, there may be something in what you say. I suppose —” with a twinkle in his eye — “you have Miss Dyrham in mind?”
“Why, certainly!” laughed Almeria. “She would make the most delightful sister-in-law!”
Nevertheless, she saw that for the present he intended to remain, and this gave her hope that all might yet be well.
Chapter XXII
On that same afternoon Henrietta was entertaining Anna Florey.
“Now what would you most like to do?” she asked, once the door of the seminary had closed behind them. “I’m quite at your disposal. Always provided,” she added cautiously, “that you don’t suggest anything too outrageous.”
“As if I would!” Anna giggled. “But what I’d really like is to stroll about the town a little. We always go out in a crocodile, you know, and are never allowed to stop and gaze into shop windows or, indeed, to do anything in the least bit interesting! It would be such a treat to be able to look for as long as one pleases.”
“Yes, by all means let us spend an hour or so in Milsom Street,” replied Henrietta agreeably.
&
nbsp; Anna hesitated, evidently having had second thoughts. “Are you quite sure you wouldn’t perhaps prefer to call on one of your friends — Lady Barrington, for instance?” she suggested slyly. “She is always so kind, I don’t suppose she’d object the least little bit to my accompanying you.”
Henrietta smiled at this transparent attempt to engineer a meeting with Mr. Aldwyn.
“I didn’t rescue you from the rigours of the schoolroom in order to plunge you into a round of social calls! Besides, Lady Barrington and I will meet this evening, at the Assembly ball.”
“Oh, how lucky you are!”
“What, lucky to go to the ball, or to see Lady Barrington?”
Anna laughed. “You are a quiz, Miss Melville! Well, yes, you are lucky to be going to a ball, but you must know that when I speak of seeing Lady Barrington, I really mean —”
“Yes, well, we won’t go into that at present,” replied Henrietta briskly. “I tell you what, Anna. How would you like to help me purchase a new bonnet?”
“Oh, of all things!” Anna looked admiringly at her companion’s present headgear. “But I must say, Miss Melville, that you don’t seem in need of one! Mama says one should never make personal remarks, but it does seem a shame when one only wishes to pay a compliment, and I do think yours is one of the prettiest bonnets I’ve ever seen! Such a heavenly shade of blue, and the feathers drooping so gracefully from the crown! I only wish —” with a heartfelt sigh — “that I might wear such a lovely bonnet!”
“Why, so you will one day soon.”
“But not for ages and ages. And our school clothes are monstrous; we all detest them!”
Henrietta nodded sympathetically. “So did I and my schoolfellows. I think all schoolgirls feel the same. But cheer up, Anna. Only consider what prodigiously attractive clothes you have at home for wearing during the holidays. I recall that on the day we rode to Farleigh Hungerford castle you were sporting a dashing new riding habit, which quite put my ancient one to shame.”
“Oh, did you truly like it? I do hope so. Not because I’m vain, you know, ma’am,” she added hastily, “but because — well, for quite another reason.”
“I’m relieved to learn that it wasn’t vanity, otherwise I should feel obliged to return you at once to the seminary and recommend Miss Mynford to set you to reading improving extracts from some such volume as Fordyce’s sermons.”
This mock severity sent Anna off into a fit of the giggles, which drew the attention of a gentleman strolling on the other side of the road.
Recognising the pair, he crossed over and approached them.
“How d’you do, Miss Melville? And Miss — Florey, is it not? May I enquire into the source of your amusement, or is it a secret not to be entrusted to a mere male?”
It was Colby. He smiled at Anna as he put the question but although she curtseyed and returned his greeting civilly, she answered with unsmiling reserve. She had noticed on Sunday that Mr. Aldwyn seemed not to approve of this gentleman.
“Oh, it was only some nonsense, sir.”
Colby quickly sensed her attitude and guessed easily enough at the reason for it, for he had kept his eyes open during their meeting on Sunday. This chit was of no consequence as far as he was concerned, but Miss Melville seemed attached to her, so he decided it might be wise to try and foster a better feeling toward himself in Miss Anna’s youthful bosom.
He used his charm to thaw her out as they all three walked together in the direction of Milsom Street. Anna’s reserve, never very long-lived, was not equal to his experienced assault and soon she was chattering away in her usual free, uninhibited way. Henrietta noticed his ploy with some amusement, and could not help comparing it with Mr. Aldwyn’s past efforts at setting Anna at ease in his company. There was a difference, she decided. There seemed less of kindness and more of calculation in Mr. Colby’s approach, but perhaps she was imagining this. In any case, she had no wish to dwell on thoughts of Mr. Aldwyn.
She allowed Anna to talk on uninterrupted, and soon Colby had learnt almost all there was to know about the regimen of Miss Mynford’s Seminary and the various pranks practised by its older pupils. Several times the girl attempted to drag Aldwyn’s name into the conversation, speaking of him in almost reverent tones; at such moments, when Colby would look to catch Miss Melville’s eye, he noticed that she was quick to steer Anna away from this topic.
He accompanied them as far as the milliner’s shop.
“And here we must part, sir,” she said, smiling, “for Anna and I are about to embark on some very serious and feminine business: choosing a new bonnet.”
“Ah, yes,” he said, with the familiar twinkle in his eyes, “I shall certainly be de trop there! But I shall hope to view the article of your choice on some future occasion, even though you are unlikely to wear it to this evening’s Assembly ball. I do trust you will be there, and that you will grant me the honour of the first dance?”
She gave a laughing assent, and he took his leave.
“I think, you know, Miss Melville, that Mr. Colby admires you,” remarked Anna as they entered the shop. “But who could help it? For you look so delightfully nowadays. Oh, dear!” She clapped her hand over her mouth with a crestfallen expression. “Pray excuse me — I shouldn’t have said that — Mama would say it was impertinent, I fear!”
“It must be a great comfort to your mama to know that you pay so much attention to her rules of conduct,” said Henrietta in a teasing tone. “Now let us see what the milliner can show us.”
The succeeding hour they passed most agreeably. Several delightful bonnets were brought out, exclaimed over, and examined from every angle; Anna was even permitted to try on one or two herself, posturing before the mirror and declaring that she positively adored this one or looked a frightful quiz in another. Finally, a choice was made and instructions given for its delivery.
Afterward, they discovered that there was no time to attempt anything further before returning Anna to the seminary. Accordingly, she was safely delivered to its portals, and parted from her companion with heartfelt thanks for a most enjoyable afternoon.
On her way home, Henrietta decided to look in at the Circulating Library in Milsom Street, for although she had little enough time for reading, she always liked to have a book at hand.
The library appeared deserted at present, so she was able to browse along the shelves uninterrupted. She was ensconced in a corner behind a fixture, which had been constructed at right angles to the wall, when her concentration was disturbed by voices coming from the other side of a row of books on the shelving.
She would have moved away at once, had she not immediately recognised the voices of Louisa and Colby.
“You must see that this can’t go on!” Louisa exclaimed in a low, agitated tone. “You cannot possibly require more so soon!”
“Sure, Bath’s a devilish expensive place,” replied Colby. “But if you were to use your influence in a certain quarter, m’dear lady, I think you might find your own situation a trifle easier, now.”
“I — I can’t,” gasped Louisa. “You ask too much. It would be a, a gross betrayal!”
“Better that, perhaps, than another kind of betrayal,” he muttered grimly. “Consider that, ma’am.”
There was a silence, during which Henrietta thought she could detect muted sobs. For a moment, an impulse came over her to rush round the partition and confront the pair. She fought it down, realising that Louisa might not welcome her interference.
Very quietly, she left her corner and hastened out of the library.
Once in the street, she walked along without paying the slightest heed to the press of people about her, her mind full of what she had just overheard. What could it mean? Colby had seemed to threaten Louisa. And now that she came to consider it, Henrietta realized this was not for the first time. There had been something said to Louisa on a former occasion, about memory — now what exactly had it been? Something to the effect that he was possessed of an accommoda
ting memory, able to recall or forget at will, and that this was fortunate for some. She had thought then that he meant an underlying threat, but she had later concluded that she was reading too much into his words.
There could be no doubt, however, that the gentleman did exercise a somewhat sobering effect upon Louisa’s spirits. Henrietta knew that she had not been the only person to notice this: Captain Barclay obviously did as well. But it was no use, she reflected despondently. She had done her utmost to persuade her friend to confide in her, but Louisa had resisted all these efforts. That being so, it was quite impossible for Henrietta to interfere.
When Louisa reached home some time later, she went to her room with only a brief greeting to Henrietta. Although Henrietta studied her friend’s expression closely during the few moments they were together, she could see no signs of distress; and when Louisa, dressed in an amber gown of shot silk with a double flounce at the hem, eventually came downstairs, she seemed in her usual high spirits. Henrietta began to wonder if once again she had been allowing her imagination to run away with her, and her mind gradually turned to speculations about her own dilemma: in all probability, Mr. Aldwyn would be present at the ball this evening.
It would, she knew, be impossible altogether to avoid speaking to Mr. Aldwyn when they chanced to meet in company but it would obviously be an object with both of them to ensure that such meetings were infrequent. She, too, had thought of leaving Bath as a way out of the difficulty, even though to do so would involve her in manufacturing a plausible excuse for the benefit of Louisa and her other acquaintances. It was not this that persuaded her against such a course, however, but a stubborn pride. Why should she allow him to drive her away when she was enjoying herself so much? She had a suspicion that the time might come when her present diversions would pall, but for the moment she was caught up in the excitement of it all.
Nevertheless, she entered the ballroom in some apprehension and was relieved to find it so crowded that she saw nothing of Almeria’s party. She and Louisa were soon surrounded by a group of friends, among them Captain Barclay and Mr. Burke. The latter greeted the ladies in his usual solemn way and proceeded to request of Henrietta the pleasure of the first dance. He looked downcast when she replied that she had already promised it.
A Conformable Wife: A Regency Romance with a spirited heroine Page 21
