A Conformable Wife: A Regency Romance with a spirited heroine

by Alice Chetwynd Ley

  Aldwyn nodded, too interested now to interrupt.

  “Found out he’d left London by mail coach and arrived in Bristol. We’ve quite a number of sources for information, you know, sir: toll keepers, innkeepers, coaching offices, and the like, not to mention petty felons and bawdyhouse women. All anxious to keep their own noses clean,” he added cynically. “All the same, we lost track of him in Bristol, so I pops over to Ireland, see if he’d gone back there. He told the widow woman he came from Dublin, reckon it was the only true tale he did tell, for we caught up with his past there, all right and tight.”

  He went on to relate in detail Colby’s nefarious adventures in his native town, concluding with an event that had made it imperative for his immediate removal to a healthier locality.

  “So he left for London,” went on the Runner, “and being a card-sharper by profession, he tried to get a living at it again. That’s when you’ll have come across him, sir. But although there’s plenty o’ flats in London gaming hells, there’s plenty as knows their onions, too, so in the end he was rumbled and kicked out. That’s when he tries his luck in the city instead of Mayfair, and uses his charm to catch himself a wealthy widow.”

  “Good God, I knew about the card-sharping but I’d no notion he was such an unmitigated scoundrel,” exclaimed Aldwyn. “You came back to Bristol when you discovered he’d not returned to Ireland?”

  “Correct. And I had news then of one of the stolen pieces being handed into pawn shortly after our man had reached Bristol from London. Bow Street sends out lists of stolen goods to the dealers, you know, but it don’t always click with them — or they don’t want it to. After that of course we went round warnin’ them all, me and my assistant, Tom Kemp, that we must know on the instant when any other item from that same little lot came in. We also told ’em to keep tabs on whoever offered it. Sure enough, they turns up trumps this time, and we nab Bly with another of the pieces. Says he bought it off a bloke in the Llandoger, and swears he don’t know the bloke from Adam. So here I am, waitin’ for someone who wants to meet Ned Bly, and in comes you.”

  “Naturally you took me for Colby — I mean Clavering.”

  “Yes and no, sir. I’d a pretty good description of our man from the interested parties in London, and you didn’t fit: taller by a head, slimmer build, and dark hair instead of light brown. Course, a man can dye his hair, but I never heard tell of one who could add a cubit to his stature, as the Good Book says. What’s more, you’d nay a trace of Irish brogue. But I was interested in you, on account of you asks for Bly. Thought perhaps you might have been sent here by the man Clavering.”

  “Believe me, he and I are certainly not on those terms,” said Aldwyn grimly. “But should you wish to satisfy yourself as to my identity, I am known at The Bush in Corn Street, where my curricle is awaiting me.”

  “No need for that, sir,” the Runner reassured him. “But I’ll thank you to tell me where I may find the man Clavering, for he and I must have a chat.”

  “He’s putting up at the York Hotel in Bath.”

  “I’ll need to get a warrant sworn. You can help, sir, since you’ve a speedy vehicle in the town. Convey me to the nearest Justice and then to Bath, if you’ll be so good.”

  “Of course.” Aldwyn stood up. “Shall we take a hack to The Bush?”

  “May as well walk, it’ll be as quick. I’ll just tell my assistant to hang on here and keep his peepers open, just in case. Be with you in a moment.”

  It was getting dusk as they drew up outside the York Hotel. Aldwyn alighted with the Runner and waited in the coffee room while the latter made his inquiries. It was not long before Trimble returned, a frown on his face.

  “Greatly fear our bird’s flown,” he said, shaking his head. “They tell me he came in about an hour and a half ago, then left shortly afterwards carrying a portmanteau. I’ve been up to his room though, and he’s left a few things — to disarm suspicion that he’d done a bunk, I opine.”

  “What will you do now?”

  “Watch here for a bit, see if he turns up. If by any chance you sets eyes on him, get word to me at once, will you, sir? I expect I’ll be about somewheres; otherwise leave a message for me with the landlord. I’ll tell him to look out for it.”

  “Wonder where he’s gone?” asked Aldwyn, frowning. “I don’t quite see how he could have got wind already that you were on his trail.”

  “No more do I, but there’s no accountin’ for the way information leaks through to the criminal classes. And times we’re mighty glad of it ourselves, I can tell you, sir. Well, thanks for your assistance. Don’t forget, tip me the wink the moment you sees our friend.”

  “You may be very sure that I shall,” replied Aldwyn emphatically.

  Chapter XXV

  Henrietta had almost regretted her promise to drive out with Colby that morning. Shortly before he was due to call for her, she confessed her misgivings to Louisa.

  “I don’t feel in the least inclined to go with Mr. Colby,” she said. “Do you think I could make some excuse? Or would that be too shabby?”

  “It would be a trifle uncivil. But why don’t you wish to drive out with him? It’s a splendid morning, and you always say that you enjoy his company. Don’t you feel well? I must say you look in the pink of health!”

  “Oh yes, so I am, and I scarce think I could convince him that I’m suffering from so much as a headache. But perhaps I could make you my excuse, Louisa, for you do look a trifle peaky, now I came to study you closely. Would you not prefer me to stay and keep you company?”

  There was a pleading note in her voice, which her friend chose to ignore.

  “No such thing!” she replied lightly. “I’ve no intention of allowing you to sacrifice your pleasures on my account. Besides, I have planned several things for today, knowing I should be on my own. I intend to do some shopping, then call on the Lavertons.”

  “Oh, very well,” said Henrietta in a flat tone. “If there are things you wish to do, that’s splendid.”

  “You didn’t answer my question, though,” persisted Louisa. “Why do you not wish to drive out with Mr. Colby?”

  Henrietta shrugged. “I’m not perfectly certain of the reason myself. A general disinclination is all I can find. Although,” she added slowly, “lately my feelings toward him are become somewhat contradictory. When we are together, I do enjoy his company; he’s quite the most entertaining person of my acquaintance. But when we’re apart, I must admit to some doubts.”

  “Doubts? What kind of doubts?” Louisa asked sharply. “If it’s what Mr. Aldwyn said to you, I shouldn’t refine too much upon that. There could be some mistake, you know.”

  “I suppose there might, but something that Fortescue also said to me did make me wonder.”

  “Did he make accusations against Mr. Colby? You never told me this before.”

  “Oh, no, not accusations. Indeed, I don’t believe that any such thought had crossed his mind. But he made some remarks about Mr. Colby’s extraordinary luck at cards that suggested to me, perhaps quite wrongly, that there might be more than luck in the matter.”

  “I’ll tell you what I think, Hetty. Have you never noticed how it is that whenever one is told of some particular fault — or virtue, for that matter — in another person, one is forever looking out for it afterward? It’s no more than prejudice. Take my advice and forget it, my dear! You admit that you find pleasure in Mr. Colby’s company, so enjoy it and put away your suspicions.”

  All this seemed reasonable enough, and since Henrietta could not bring herself to mention what she had overheard between Colby and Louisa in the library, she said no more.

  Indeed, after sitting beside him in the curricle for ten minutes or so, she forgot her misgivings. He was in a particularly entertaining mood, relating amusing anecdotes about their mutual acquaintances, spiced with touches of mimicry, for which he had quite a gift.

  “What a loss to the stage you are, Mr. Colby!” she exclaimed, laughing. �
��You must have kissed the Blarney stone while you were in Ireland, I vow!”

  He turned an incredulous look on her, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

  “Sure, ma’am, and no Irishman worthy of the name would ever kiss anything as cold as a stone! How can you suppose it? Warm red lips, now — ah, that’s another matter!”

  His impudent, laughing gaze rested for a moment on her own mouth, and she turned away, colouring slightly.

  But the next moment he was giving a spirited rendering of a conversation between Miss Dyrham and Captain Barclay that he had overheard in the Pump Room.

  “The poor man was doing his best to escape from the lady,” he chuckled. “He looked this way and that, like a cornered animal, and kept answering in short gasps: ‘Just so, ma’am,’ and ‘Indeed, ma’am?’ I felt in charity bound to draw off her fire myself, for which I earned the only kindly look I can ever recall receiving from that quarter.”

  Henrietta laughed. “Oh, that is exactly right! I’ve heard similar exchanges between those two, time and again!”

  “She must be of a prodigiously optimistic disposition, for anyone can see that the only lady who interests Barclay is Mrs. Fordyce,” remarked Colby in a more serious tone. “Well, perhaps he will win her in the end.”

  Henrietta shook her head. “Louisa says she will never marry again.”

  “Indeed?” His tone was noncommittal.

  “Do you know why, Mr. Colby?” she asked impulsively. “Was her first marriage unhappy?”

  He made no reply, and at that juncture on the narrow lane they were following, they caught up with a farm wagon, which he passed with only inches to spare.

  “Oh, that was splendidly done!” exclaimed Henrietta, forgetting her question in sudden admiration of his expertise. “How I wish I could drive like that!”

  “Do you drive, then, Miss Melville?”

  “Why, yes, I drive a gig sometimes at home, but I’ve never taken out anything more dashing! I did once ask my brother if I might try with his curricle, but my sister-in-law said she thought it would be unbecoming in a lady. Of course, she may simply have feared that I would put the vehicle in a ditch!” she added, chuckling.

  “Sure, and you shall try now,” he said promptly.

  “Oh, may I?” Her eyes sparkled. “But are you quite sure? I may perhaps do some damage to your vehicle, as I’ve never handled a pair before. And these are blood horses.”

  “Pooh, this is only a hired vehicle,” he said disparagingly. “One more scratch on it would never be noticed, I assure you. I’ve carriages of my own at home, but when I’m travelling about, I must perforce hire. Come, let us change places, and I’ll show you how to go on. I’m sure you’ll prove an apt pupil.”

  He summoned the groom with a gesture of his head, and the man leapt down to come to the horses’ heads while the exchange of seats was made.

  Full of inner qualms, Henrietta took up the reins. Colby at once leaned toward her, placing his hands over hers to guide her movements. His close proximity made her feel a little breathless and confused, so that at first she did not manage at all well, and the vehicle wandered from side to side in a way that made the groom lift expressive eyes heavenward. Colby seemed not at all perturbed, smiling at her encouragingly and issuing instructions in a lazy, relaxed tone.

  It was not long before her performance improved sufficiently for him to remove his hands from hers. He still sat close to her, however, ready to intervene should it prove necessary. She was now able to maintain a straight course, keeping the horses at a gentle trot. She turned a triumphant, smiling face to him.

  “There! I’m beginning to master it, am I not? Though I fear it will be a very long time before I attain quite to your standard!”

  “You must drive out with me every day, and then you’ll soon be handling the ribbons in style,” he promised her. “Just around this bend we shall come out onto the turnpike road. Do you feel competent to meet the traffic, or shall I take over?”

  Although pleased with her progress, she did not care to meet the challenge of a busy road just yet, so she readily yielded the reins to him. While changing places, he put an arm around her to assist her into the seat, and he patted her hand encouragingly before taking up the reins himself. She did not relish this as much as she might have done earlier in their acquaintance; he was still personable and charming, but her feelings had subtly changed.

  They had driven only a short distance along the turnpike road when they came to an inn. There he turned into the courtyard and reined in his horses.

  “After your recent exertions, perhaps some refreshment would be welcome, ma’am,” he said, smiling. “I understand the coffee is tolerable here.”

  Henrietta was not at all sure that she wished to be seen alone with a gentleman in a public inn, but she told herself that such qualms were ridiculous in a mature female. Moreover, a cup of coffee would be most welcome. She allowed him to lead her inside, and was relieved to see that, although it was by no means crowded, they were not to have it to themselves. An elderly lady and gentleman were already seated at a small table by the window. They looked up briefly as the newcomers entered, but showed no curiosity and were fortunately quite unknown to Henrietta.

  Colby settled her at a table on the other side of the room and made his wants known to a stout, dour-looking waiter. The coffee was brought to them, together with some small cakes, which both found very appetising. Altogether, it was a pleasant interlude with Colby at his most amusing, and when they finally left the inn, Henrietta was in a happy, relaxed frame of mind.

  This lasted until they had once more mounted into the curricle, which had been brought round from the stables by an ostler instead of Colby’s groom. Colby gathered up the reins and prepared to start the horses.

  “But where is your groom?” asked Henrietta. “Shall we not wait for him?”

  “I’ve given him the afternoon off,” Colby replied casually. “The fellow has some relatives living in this village, and I said he might visit them.”

  Henrietta felt disconcerted. “Oh,” she answered in a flat tone of voice.

  He gave her a mischievous glance. “You don’t mind, surely? Are you anxious for your reputation if you drive the five miles back to Bath with only myself for escort? I can’t believe that the Miss Melville I know would be so missish, at all, at all!”

  She smiled reluctantly, remembering how she had once considered herself past the age for troubling about those excessive constraints that were proper in a young girl. Why should she think differently now? She told herself she was being absurd.

  Her confidence returned as Colby tooled his horses at a smart rate along the busy turnpike road, keeping up a flow of light banter that frequently set her laughing. Presently, he turned off into a quiet byroad and eased his horses to a gentler pace.

  “Have I told you how very charmingly you look today?” he asked, looking earnestly into her eyes. “Today and all days. To me you always appear more lovely, more desirable than any other woman.”

  Under his gaze she blushed and turned her head away.

  “No mere compliment, my dear Miss Melville,” he went on, “but a sincere expression of my feelings.”

  “I wish you will not,” she protested, embarrassed.

  “Ah, but I must,” he insisted in a voice of tightly controlled emotion. “How can I be with you almost every day and never yield to the overwhelming impulse to tell you how much — how very much! — I admire and love you! It was so from the first, Henrietta: from the moment we met, I knew that you were the only woman in the world for me!”

  He took the reins into one hand while with the other he caught and held one of hers. She tried to draw away, but his hold tightened.

  “You shall hear me! I’ve been silent too long; flesh and blood can stand only so much! And I can’t believe that you’re entirely indifferent to me either, my dearest.”

  “Pray don’t make so free with my name and these endearments, sir!” she said in a fri
gid voice. “You are not behaving as a gentleman should.”

  “I’m behaving as any man of spirit will who wishes to tell a lady of his love!” he retorted passionately. “Do you misunderstand me, I wonder? Can that be it? I offer you no insult, Henrietta, but an honourable proposal of marriage. Say that you’ll accept me, my dear, dearest girl!”

  She succeeded in drawing her hand from his at last, and moved hastily away from him into her own corner of the seat. Her heart was beating furiously with apprehension. Why had she allowed herself to become placed in such an awkward situation? She should have refused to drive home with him unless the groom accompanied them. No doubt he had planned it all from the start. Could she believe in his protestations of love, or had Mr. Aldwyn been right when he had said that the man was only after her fortune? Whatever his feelings might be, she thought feverishly, at least she was certain of her own.

  “Come, Henrietta, won’t you answer me?” His tone was coaxing now. “You can’t be so cruel as to keep me in suspense! One word now, only one! And I’ll be the happiest man alive!”

  Swallowing resolutely, she took a grip on her confused thoughts and emotions. Something must be said, and that quickly.

  “I fear you won’t, sir, because the word is not what you wish to hear. I am very conscious of the honour you do me in making your proposals —”

  “Bah! Such sad stuff is not for us, my beloved! Speak from your heart!”

  He leaned toward her and slid his free arm about her waist, pulling her closer.

  “Very well, I will!” she exclaimed angrily, doing her best to thrust him away. “I do not return your affection and have no intention of marrying you!”

  “But that’s nonsense! It must be!” he insisted. “Can you pretend that you haven’t been attracted to me from the first, just as I have to you? Haven’t we laughed together, danced together, driven out together until all the gossips of Bath have been coupling our names?”