“I am sorry, Mr. Burke. I chanced to meet Mr. Colby this afternoon in Milsom Street, and he made his request to me then.”
“Then perhaps I may hope to lead you out for the second dance, Miss Melville?”
She readily assented, and he seemed mollified.
“Oh, dear,” whispered Louisa in her ear, “we seem to be in some trouble with your admirers, don’t we? They’ll be calling each other out next!”
Henrietta pulled a face at her, which set them both laughing.
The band then struck up, and Colby came to claim his partner.
He was as amusing as ever, but this evening she found it difficult to respond. Her glance kept flickering away from him over the other dancers, a fact that did not escape his quick eye.
“And who is the lucky man for whom you are looking, Miss Melville?”
She started. “Looking? I? What do you mean, sir?”
He smiled knowingly. “Ever since we took the floor you’ve been searching the room for someone. Now I wonder who he can be?”
“What nonsense! I am merely looking about me a little. And even if I were looking for someone in particular, there’s no reason why you should suppose it to be a gentleman.”
“Is another female at all likely to arouse so much interest in any lady? But I see what it is: you are tired of my trivial conversation and are wishing to hear some of the worthy Burke’s profound discourse instead.”
She laughed, and thereafter forced herself to abandon the search for Aldwyn that had caused her to neglect her partner. At the conclusion of the dance, she found that Almeria and Sir Giles had joined Louisa’s group, but there was still no sign of Aldwyn. Perhaps he had decided not to come. She was longing to put the question to his sister, and suffered all the frustration of one who is obliged to chat upon indifferent subjects while avoiding the one topic uppermost in her mind.
During her dance with Mr. Burke, Henrietta at last saw Aldwyn. He was dancing with Isabella Laverton and paying no heed to anyone else. This was scarcely to be wondered at, thought Henrietta, as Isabella’s gown of pale pink muslin set off her dark beauty to perfection.
She returned to Louisa’s party in a sober, slightly apprehensive mood, which was not lightened by finding Almeria and Sir Giles had re-joined the group. In a moment or two her fears were realised by the advent of Aldwyn himself. She at once began an animated conversation with Almeria and Louisa. But the dreaded confrontation could not long be postponed. A bow, a stiff smile, a formal greeting from each, and the thing was done. When no one present appeared to notice any lack of cordiality, Henrietta breathed a sigh of relief.
Determined to keep as much distance as possible between Aldwyn and herself for the remainder of the evening, she responded to a signal from Jane Dyrham to join her apart from Louisa’s group.
“You may have noticed, Miss Melville, that my dear friend Lady Bellairs is not here this evening?” Miss Dyrham said with calculated restraint.
Henrietta admitted that she had not.
Jane Dyrham gave a sceptical smile. “Well, I must say I’m surprised, for her nephew has been paying you a certain amount of attention, and a female generally notices the absence of an admirer. Or perhaps I should say,” she corrected herself, “a seeming admirer, for as matters have turned out, it looks as if you may have been sadly deceived in the young man’s attentions.”
Henrietta laughed. “No such thing, I assure you! Mr. Fortescue and I have talked a deal of nonsense together, but at no time have I ever thought him serious.”
“Well, naturally you would say so, my dear, and I do not blame you for that. One has one’s pride, after all. But it may surprise you to learn that the young man has quitted the town for good, this very afternoon!”
This did surprise Henrietta, as her expression showed.
“I called in upon Lady Bellairs about four o’clock to ask if she would be at the Assembly Rooms this evening,” continued Miss Dyrham with scarcely a pause, “And I found her in the most dreadful passion! Indeed, had we not been such close friends, I must have taken offence. However, I hope I made allowance for the heat of the moment, and in no time I learned the cause of her vexation. She told me that she and her nephew had just had the most violent quarrel!”
“Oh, dear!” exclaimed Henrietta, with foreboding. “Why? But perhaps,” she added, hastily, “you ought not to tell me anything more.”
“I can’t see why not, when it will be all over the town by tomorrow,” replied Jane, with the confidence of one who intends to see a thing accomplished. “He told his aunt flatly that he would no longer allow her to order his life for him, that he had no intention of marrying, so there was no use in her attempting to throw females at his head —” here she gave Henrietta a malicious glance — “and in short, he flouted her authority in the most vehement way! I must say, after all she has done for him, it’s the most flagrant ingratitude ever I heard of!”
“No young man of spirit would for long submit to the kind of autocratic treatment that I have seen Lady Bellairs mete out to her nephew,” replied Henrietta.
“Well, there’s no denying she’s a woman of strong character and likes to get her own way,” allowed Miss Dyrham. “But only picture to yourself the kind of scene that ensued! She storming and raging, saying that he need never expect another penny from her and that he could leave her roof instantly, and he flinging the curricle and pair in her face — not literally, of course — telling her he wouldn’t accept it, and that she might dispose of it as she wished! I had it all repeated to me, every word, for he’d only departed just before I called there. She was in a monstrous rage, I can tell you, and she intends to quit Bath tomorrow! Now, what do you think of that, Miss Melville?”
“Why, to a certain extent I am sorry for it,” said Henrietta slowly, “as I believe that they are both fond of each other, in a curious kind of way. But such a breach was bound to come, and perhaps when they’ve both had time to cool down a little, they’ll be reconciled — and with a better understanding of each other’s dispositions than before. A man of three and twenty doesn’t relish being treated as a boy, you know.”
“Perhaps not when he’s financially independent, but beggars can’t be choosers, Miss Melville. However, I thought it only kind to let you know that one of your beaux —” she gave an audible sniff — “is, to use vulgar parlance, no longer in the running.”
“Thank you, Miss Dyrham, but I never considered that he was. Now pray excuse me, for I see my partner is waiting for the next dance.”
She stood up and went toward Sir Giles, who had been hovering in the background, evidently reluctant to break in on their conversation.
“Been regaling you with a prime piece of gossip, I dare say,” he said with a laugh as he led her onto the floor.
“Oh, of course,” replied Henrietta lightly. “But I won’t tell you the details, for I’m sure that would spoil the lady’s fun.”
As they moved about the ballroom, she caught sight of Aldwyn dancing with Louisa; once she intercepted a glance from him in her direction, but it was quickly withdrawn. Now, however, her mind dwelt a little on what she had just learnt, preventing her from that uneasy concentration on Aldwyn that had previously obsessed her. Her words to Fortescue that morning must have been responsible for the quarrel between him and Lady Bellairs, but she could not repine. Some such confrontation, with or without her influence, had been inevitable before long, and she believed, as she had told Miss Dyrham, that it was all for the best.
By the time the ball ended, she had danced twice with Mr. Colby, but refused to grant him a third, and she had noticed that Aldwyn had taken out Isabella for a second time. Perhaps he was now transferring his attentions to that quarter, but it was a matter of indifference to her.
Captain Barclay handed Louisa into the carriage first, then turned to perform the same office for Henrietta. As he did so, he surreptitiously pressed a small folded piece of paper into her hand.
“Aldwyn asked me to give yo
u this, ma’am,” he said, so quietly that Louisa could not possibly hear. “He begs you will read it.”
Chapter XXIII
Henrietta could scarcely wait to be alone so that she might read the note, which she had hastily slipped into her reticule. When she did at last reach the privacy of her bedchamber, she quickly dismissed her maid and with eager fingers unfolded the crumpled piece of paper. There were only a few lines, penned in a firm, decisive hand.
“Madam,” it began in an austere way.
Since you have forbidden me to speak to you, this is my only recourse. I rely upon the generosity of your nature in trusting that you will read it. I wish to apologise sincerely for my lack of civility toward you yesterday. My intention was but to safeguard your interests, but in the heat of the moment, I fear I expressed myself in a way I cannot hope you will forgive. It is my hope that this expression of my deep regret will make it possible for us to meet in the future, if not as friends, at least with a socially acceptable degree of tolerance.
JULIAN ALDWYN
She read it again and again, through eyes dimmed with tears. At every reading, her feelings underwent a change. Her first sensation was one of relief mingled with gratitude; he did not, then, despise her, nor believe her capable of all the monstrous things of which he had accused her. He had spoken hastily and now was truly sorry and anxious to restore good relations between them. And he was properly diffident: “I cannot hope that you will forgive” he had written.
Subsequent readings brought less satisfactory reflections, however. The tone of his note was cold and stiff. Could it have been dictated merely by pride? Realising that his behaviour had fallen short of gentlemanly propriety, was he offering an apology merely as a concession to social form? And those final lines gave yet another interpretation: they suggested that he was concerned principally with keeping up appearances within their social circle.
After an hour’s anxious perusal and cogitation over the note, she had no idea what to make of it. At last she went to bed in an unhappy frame of mind, deciding to seek Louisa’s opinion in the morning. Her friend would take a more objective view.
Accordingly she handed the note to Louisa at the breakfast table and watched closely while it was being read.
“Why, this is capital, is it not?” said Louisa brightly, handing back the paper. “He has made an honourable amend and now you can both be comfortable again! Not that I should be too quick to show forgiveness, were I you, Hetty. He deserves some punishing.”
“You talk as if he really cares whether or not I forgive him.”
“You believe he does not? But why else should he trouble to write such a handsome apology?”
Henrietta proceeded to outline the other possible motives that had occurred to her the previous night.
Louisa looked doubtful.
“Well, there may be something in what you say,” she allowed. “After all, you know him much better than I do, so you must be a more reliable judge of his conduct. But to me it seems that he truly regrets having behaved so outrageously and has done his best to express his contrition. It’s always difficult to do justice to one’s feelings in a letter, I find, and I dare say men may be even more inhibited than we would be. At all events, his apology, whatever may be his true motives for making it, will mean that you can meet publicly without undue awkwardness. And as we two are such intimate friends of his sister, that’s something to be thankful for.”
Henrietta agreed, though she could not help feeling that Louisa’s final remarks gave credence to the notion that Mr. Aldwyn was chiefly concerned with keeping up appearances.
“Do you think I should make any reply to this?” she asked doubtfully, taking back the note.
Louisa hesitated, then spoke decisively.
“Oh, no, you won’t wish to be involved in a correspondence with the gentleman; that would be too tedious! You might perhaps mention having received his letter — just casually, you know — when next you meet.”
Henrietta nodded and changed the subject. It had been a relief to confide in Louisa, for now she hoped to put the whole affair out of her mind. She only wished that her friend would be as ready to confide in her, especially after yesterday’s incident with Colby in the library.
As the morning weather was mild, they decided to take a stroll to the Pump Room. For once, Captain Barclay did not join them, nor did they see him there when they arrived. Most of their other acquaintances were present, however, and it was not long before Henrietta found that Miss Dyrham had been at work, for everyone was talking of the quarrel between Fortescue and his aunt.
“This must be a sad blow to you, Henrietta,” remarked Almeria with her tongue in her cheek, as she joined the group where Louisa and Henrietta were standing in conversation. “I trust you won’t dwindle into a decline on his account.”
“I believe I may safely promise that I shall not.”
“What a pity for Jane Dyrham! She would like to have some such evidence to support the story she is spreading of your having had strong expectations in that quarter.”
“Well, of all things!” protested Henrietta indignantly, drawing away from the others so that she and Almeria could be private.
“I shouldn’t trouble your head over that, my dear. Everyone knows what a monstrous gossip she is. But I wouldn’t be at all surprised to learn that you know rather more of the inside story of this quarrel than even Jane Dyrham does.”
“Would you not?”
“I see you’re determined to tease me. But I happen to know that you and Fortescue were out driving together early yesterday, and knowing my Henrietta of old —”
“Oh, did you see us?”
“No, but Julian did and told me of it. And by the way, Hetty, I trust you won’t mind, but I let him into the secret of your seeming flirtation with Fortescue.”
“I don’t mind,” replied Henrietta slowly, “but I expect he thought it a nonsensical business, as indeed it was.”
“Well, yes, he did.”
Almeria hesitated for a second, wondering if she should say more. Julian had made it plain that he would not thank her for interfering in his concerns; on the other hand, the temptation was very great.
“He confided to me what had passed between you before you came to Bath,” she continued. “I’ll not reproach you for refusing him, much as I could have wished… However, I understand and respect your reasons, dearest Hetty, so I’ll say no more on that head. He said something, too, of a recent disagreement between you.”
Anxious not to venture too far on such delicate ground, she paused and searched her friend’s face. Beyond a faint flush, however, it betrayed nothing.
“I dare say you’d prefer not to speak of it,” she said at last. “But I must just assure you — indeed, Hetty, I cannot be entirely silent, loving you both as I do — that he is truly sorry for having given you offence.”
Henrietta was unable to answer, but she pressed Almeria’s hand affectionately before they both, by common consent, moved into the group again.
Sometime later, as they wandered about the room chatting to various acquaintances, Henrietta saw Aldwyn laughing with Isabella Laverton over by the fountain. She experienced a sharp pang and quickly turned away her head. Colby came up to her shortly afterward, and she greeted him rather more effusively than otherwise she might have done.
“And so our young friend Fortescue has bolted from the hand that feeds him — having bitten it, so I hear,” he said lightly. “He’ll be a great loss to the gaming establishment of Bath, but otherwise I believe we may manage to go on tolerably well without him. What do you say, Miss Melville?”
“Oh, for my part I shall miss him. He was always such fun,” she answered lightly.
“Then we must contrive to keep you from pining, ma’am, by providing you entertainment. What do you say to a drive out into the country tomorrow? I have it on good authority that the day will be lovely.”
“Is there such thing as a good authority on that subject?”
she demanded, smiling.
“Well, there’s Old Moore’s Almanac, which promises no end of blessings for this particular week. And then there’s the aged ostler at my hotel, who always tells the weather by his rheumatism, and swears he doesn’t feel a twinge at present. Of course —” his eyes lit up with mischief — “his prognostications might possibly have been influenced by the quantity of ale he consumed at my expense last night. I must confess, however, that I have yet to consult the stars, but I’m positive that they’ll prove propitious if only you’ll consent to come, ma’am.”
She scolded him for being nonsensical, but she did agree to go, for in spite of some misgivings about him, she always found him a most entertaining companion. She remained at his side, talking and laughing, until she suddenly noticed Julia Kennett eyeing them with a cynical expression. This made Henrietta realise that perhaps they had been too long together, so she parted from him, having arranged that she would be ready when he called for her at half past eleven on the following morning.
Henrietta found the Lavertons with Louisa’s group, but to her relief, Mr. Aldwyn was not there. The relief proved short-lived, however, for soon Almeria came over, accompanied by Sir Giles and her brother, to bid goodbye. For a time, it looked as though nothing more was to pass between Henrietta and Aldwyn than the brief bow with which each had acknowledged the other as a matter of course.
An adroit movement on his part, however, brought him close enough to her side to speak without danger of being overheard.
“I learned that you received my note, Miss Melville,” he said in a low tone, fixing an earnest look upon her. “Dare I hope that you were charitable enough to read it?”
She was quite unable to speak for a lump in her throat, so she merely nodded. His expression showed that he misunderstood her silence, believing her determined not to answer.
A Conformable Wife: A Regency Romance with a spirited heroine Page 22
