A Conformable Wife: A Regency Romance with a spirited heroine

by Alice Chetwynd Ley

  She felt her cheeks flush. “It’s true that we’ve had some pleasant times together,” she conceded. “But that kind of entertaining companionship is very different from — from being in love.”

  “How so? If only I hadn’t to keep an eye on these confounded animals, I’d soon show you there isn’t any difference at all! Sure, if I could but take you in my arms, I’ll wager you’d realise that you’re as madly in love with me as I am with you!”

  In his eagerness, he took his attention from the horses for a moment and tried to grasp her with his driving arm. Resenting the sudden jerk on their mouths, the animals reared, and he was forced to bring both hands to the task of controlling them again. Meanwhile Henrietta, hoping fervently that they would not be overturned, clung tenaciously to the side of the curricle.

  He was an experienced whip, however, and soon had matters in control again.

  “If you don’t love me, then I can only conclude that you’re the most shameless flirt it’s ever been my misfortune to meet!” he snapped, scowling at her. “But I see what it is: you think Burke will be a better catch.”

  “How fortunate that you understand me so well!” Her tone was mocking, but inwardly she was now very angry.

  “You mean you’re not after him? Well, I can’t see why you should be, as it can be no object with you to marry money; you’ve plenty of your own. And he has nothing else to tempt you, such as a title.”

  “What a prodigiously flattering notion you have of my character, Mr. Colby. And pray how do you know that I have a fortune? I don’t recall ever having mentioned that to you.”

  “Anyone who consorts with the Dyrham female may know the circumstances and history of anyone in Bath,” he retorted. “I’d not been in her company five minutes before I knew everything about you.”

  “And yet,” she said in a sarcastic tone, “you seem to have succeeded in guarding your own past from her searching scrutiny, if not quite from that of others.”

  His glance sharpened. “What the devil do you mean by that? Has Louisa Fordyce been blabbing some trumped-up story to you? If so, b’God, she’ll live to regret it!”

  “All that Louisa has ever told me about you is that you have a reputation as a womaniser.”

  He laughed unpleasantly. “That doesn’t seem to have put you off. You’ve been oncoming enough.”

  Her eyes flashed. “The rest of my information came from another source. And I only wish I’d heeded it!”

  “What information? What source?” he snapped.

  “If you must know, from Mr. Aldwyn. He saw you some months ago in a London gaming house and was warned that you’re an undesirable character. At that time you were known by a name other than Colby.”

  This seemed to upset him to an alarming degree. His face paled under its tan and took on a murderous expression. Suddenly he whipped up the horses into a gallop, setting the curricle rocking from side to side. Henrietta involuntarily let out a scream of fright and clung grimly to the side of the vehicle with both hands, convinced that he intended to throw her out into the ditch.

  His wild progress continued until they came to the village of Weston, where he was forced to pull up because a wagon loaded with farm produce was blocking most of the narrow street. He swore roundly.

  Henrietta came to a quick decision.

  “Put me down here!” she commanded breathlessly. “I’m going no farther in your company.”

  He glared at her. “As you like, damn you!”

  He pulled up and watched maliciously as she dismounted without any assistance. A few moments after she had reached the ground, the wagon turned off the road into a farm, and she saw Colby drive off in headlong style with never a backward glance.

  Thankful to be rid of him, she took the road home. To one of her country habits, the walk of a mile and a half was no hardship; indeed, had she been in a mood to appreciate it, she would have enjoyed the jaunt. But the anger and disillusionment that seethed within her made her oblivious of her surroundings. Mr. Aldwyn had been right about her friendship with Colby, and she had been wrong. She ought to have been warned by her own increasing doubts, instead of persisting in seeing the man and so bringing on herself a most unpleasant experience. She shivered as she recalled that last mad gallop, that had almost thrown her overboard, and the hatred in his eyes when she had left him. Yet how could she have realised that so charming and entertaining a man would behave in such a fashion? Not only was he a rogue, he was a dangerous rogue, and she felt lucky to have escaped so lightly.

  When she reached home, she was still in a state of agitation. Louisa was at the parlour window, anxiously looking out for her. As soon as she was admitted by the footman, her friend ran out into the hall and embraced her fervently.

  “Oh, Hetty! I’ve been so anxious! You’re so much later than I expected! I didn’t know what to think — an accident, or something frightful! Thank God you’re safe!”

  “I’m sorry, Louisa, but I was delayed,” replied Henrietta as calmly as she could manage. “Let us go into the parlour, and I’ll tell you all about it.”

  They walked in and shut the door. Henrietta removed her gloves and bonnet, then sank gratefully into a chair.

  “What is it, Hetty? Something has occurred, I can tell,” said Louisa, with troubled eyes searching her friend’s face.

  “I’ve received a proposal of marriage from Mr. Colby, Louisa. And in such fashion!”

  Louisa turned deathly pale. “Marriage?” she repeated in a shocked whisper. “Oh, no! No, Hetty —” her voice rose, and a distracted look came into her eyes — “you shan’t marry that — that villain! I don’t care if I have to ruin my life to save you. Save you I shall! He knows my secret, and he’s been blackmailing me ever since he came here, but I don’t care anymore, so long as I can save you from him!”

  Chapter XXVI

  Henrietta stared in amazement. “Blackmailing you? What on earth can you mean? What secret?”

  “Oh, I might have known it was no use,” said Louisa despondently. “Once he had arrived in Bath, it could only be a matter of time before the mischief was out! I purchased his silence with money and — oh, I can’t possibly tell you what else. I’m too ashamed to think I could ever have even considered such a thing!”

  Henrietta looked grave. “Louisa, my dear, can you possibly mean that you consented to, to become his mistress?”

  “No. No!” replied Louisa in tones of revulsion. “It was not I he desired, but you, Hetty. And your fortune. Nothing matters so much as money to Clavering. That’s the name I knew him by in Ireland, though whether it’s his real name —” She broke off and shrugged.

  “Part of his price was that I should use my influence to try and persuade you into marriage with him. He wanted it all settled speedily for fear that your brother might interfere. He was always set on schemes that he hoped would enrich him quickly, and when they turned out badly, he’d be forced to flee — as no doubt he fled from London. But as much as he tried to force me, Hetty, I could not so far forget our friendship as to positively urge you into marrying him. I — I tried to make light of your doubts concerning him and to recommend him to you as far as I could force myself to do so. But all the while I was reproaching myself bitterly for the betrayal of such a dear, dear friend!” Her voice broke. “But what was I to do, faced with such a dire alternative? I have nearly gone mad over the past few weeks! At least now I can comfort myself now with the thought that, though all is over for me, I’ve had the courage to save you from a fate similar to my own! You will not wish to marry him after hearing just what manner of man he is!”

  “Let me reassure you on that point, my love. I never had the faintest intention of marrying Colby, or whatever his name is, and I told him so in no uncertain terms this afternoon.”

  Relief flooded Louisa’s face. “Oh, I was so afraid that you were falling in love with him!”

  “I’ll admit to being captivated by him at first,” confessed Henrietta. “He certainly knows how to u
se his charm to good effect, and just when I needed the reassurance that a man’s admiration gives to a female. But, although I didn’t realise it at that time, there were reasons why my heart was never in danger. But no more of that,” she added purposefully. “You’ve said too much now, Louisa, not to confide to me the whole. What is the secret that placed you in this horrible man’s power? I’ve known for so long that there was something troubling you, and often wished I could win your confidence so that I might try to help.”

  “No one can help,” replied Louisa in despair. “But I’ll tell you; indeed, it won’t be long before everyone in Bath knows. Clavering will wreak his spite by betraying me; I know him too well to expect otherwise.”

  “Your true friends will stand by you, dearest, you may count on that.”

  “They can do nothing in such a case. I’ve been living a lie, Hetty, while I’ve been in Bath. I’m not a widow. My husband is alive in Ireland. I ran away from him, hoping he would never find me again. Then Clavering came, and now — and now —” She broke down completely. Henrietta, after a moment of astonished immobility, gathered her into a comforting embrace.

  For some time there was no sound in the room but that of Louisa’s racking sobs. Henrietta, recovering from the first shock of her friend’s confession, was beginning to understand much that had previously puzzled her, but there was still a great deal to be explained. Finally Louisa became calmer.

  “Tell me all about it, dear, right from the beginning,” Henrietta said gently. “No doubt you’ve been keeping everything cooped up inside you for months, perhaps years.”

  Louisa heaved a deep sigh. “I would like you to know just how it was, so that you won’t judge me too harshly, Hetty. You see, I was so much in love with Lucius, my husband, once. It seems a long while ago and almost in another world. We had not been settled in Harrogate, Mama and I, above a year when he came there on a visit from Ireland. I know now that he came to catch a rich wife,” she added bitterly, “but no such thoughts troubled me then, and I had neither father nor brother to protect my interests. He was just such another as Clavering, handsome and charming enough to turn any girl’s head — especially one such as I, for you know, Hetty, I was always light-hearted in those days, and not very prudent.”

  Henrietta smiled affectionately. “So you were, my love, and even now you’re not so completely changed, thank goodness.”

  “I was not when you first came to Bath. But let me tell you about the early days of my marriage. As soon as the wedding was over we left for Ireland, and Lucius took me to his house in Dublin. It was situated in one of the best parts of the town, and as luxuriously appointed as any bride could wish. I did not realise until long afterward that none of it was paid for, that it had been made ready by Clavering, acting on my husband’s behalf, to receive me after the wedding.”

  “You mean that it was not your husband’s own home, but one he had recently acquired in the town?”

  “Exactly so. I doubt if he ever had a home in the sense that you and I understand it, although he must have lived somewhere or other as a child, I suppose. He never spoke of any family, and I never questioned him. Whatever his origins, he had managed to acquire at least the outward marks of a gentleman — sufficient to impose upon a silly girl such as I was then. For the first few months of our marriage, I was radiantly happy! He plunged me into a whirl of pleasure such as I had never experienced before — balls, dinner parties, picnic outings, visits to the races. And of course he wagered heavily, though I never troubled my head over that. I was too enchanted with it all! He was most attentive and never left me alone for a moment, for I truly think he was just a little in love with me at that period of our marriage —” her voice wavered for a moment, then strengthened as she continued — “as well as being after my fortune. But that I never suspected until later.”

  “Did you have any company beside that of your husband? Female friends of your own, I mean?”

  Louisa shook her head. “Most of Lucius’s acquaintances were bachelors, although they were usually accompanied by rather dashing, smart females, who were congenial enough but not the kind with whom I would wish to make friends. Even in the early days, I often thought longingly of you and Almeria. I did wonder a little, too, that Lucius appeared not to be at all acquainted with our nearby neighbours, but drew his companions from other, less reputable quarters of the town. But when one is in love, one shrugs off suspicion. For those first few months of our marriage, we went on famously, and I was as happy as I’d ever been in my life. Then things changed.”

  She paused, lost in her unhappy thoughts.

  “Circumstances, do you mean?” prompted Henrietta. “Or did your husband change toward you?”

  “Both. I didn’t realise it at that time, but he was rapidly running through my fortune. This fact made him decide to turn once more to his former way of making a living.” Her voice was full of scorn. “I discovered later that he and Clavering, both accomplished card-sharpers, had always lived by their wits. They decided to set up a gaming house of their own, in a less select part of the town, naturally, using what remained of my dowry. From then onward my husband had less time to spare for me. But I think what finally detached his interest was the news — only imagine, I thought it exciting! — that I was breeding.”

  “Oh, my poor love!” exclaimed Henrietta. “So far from your mama and friends, and with an unsympathetic husband.”

  “One couldn’t expect a man of his stamp to welcome a family,” put in Louisa in a hard, brittle voice. “He suggested various remedies for my situation, all of which I opposed vehemently. That was when my disenchantment began — and I’d been married only four months! I don’t know how long I could have continued to withstand his wishes, enforced by ill-temper and even an occasional blow —” she paused and Henrietta winced — “but nature came to my aid, quite unsupported by any act of mine. I suffered a miscarriage.”

  She glanced at her friend, then quickly away again, for Henrietta’s eyes were brimming with tears.

  “I was ill for quite a time after that, and poor company for a husband, so he sought out other females for consolation. When I recovered, he had the brilliant notion of forcing me to act the role of hostess at his gaming house. I had no choice. I had married him, and I was his to treat as he would until death did us part. Clavering was most always present in our household. He treated me with indifference, as a person of no consequence. I preferred that to being made the object of his attentions, as were many of the females who visited our establishment from time to time. Both he and my husband had always a mistress in tow; I cannot recall how many, nor what were their names. I soon ceased to make any protest, for my feelings had dried up, my former love for Lucius had been replaced by something akin to hatred. I even found it hard to pity the foolish young men who nightly gamed away their fortunes at my husband’s tables. So many went to ruin and misery.”

  Henrietta wiped her eyes. “Did you write and tell your mama of all this?” she asked.

  “No. Would you have done so in my place? She was separated from me by many miles and had grown increasingly frail since my father’s death. I wrote to her, of course, but I forced myself to keep my letters in a cheerful vein. I have sometimes since wondered if I ought not to set up as a lady novelist, for those letters were the purest fiction! The only realistic note was when Lucius sometimes compelled me to ask Mama to assist us with money. I always told her that it was a loan, and managed to make it sound as though our embarrassments were temporary. I’ve reason to think now that she saw through all this subterfuge. I didn’t see Mama again while she was alive, as you already know; but my Aunt told me Mama suspected misfortune in my life. I suppose it’s not easy to deceive someone who knows you so thoroughly, but what could she have done? He was my husband; no one could interfere between us.”

  “When did you decide to run away, and how did you manage it?”

  “I thought of it often — often! But where else could I go but back to Mama? A
nd apart from upsetting her in her poor state of health, he would know where to find me and would have fetched me back. I was too useful as a source of funds for him to let me go. Then news came that Mama was seriously ill and asking for me. I pleaded with him to allow me to visit her. He was not opposed to this, for of course we both realised that in all probability it was a terminal illness —” here Louisa’s voice faltered for a moment — “and he knew I was her sole heir. What made him hesitate was the fact that he couldn’t accompany me at that juncture, since Clavering was absent on one of his nefarious money-making schemes, and there was no one else whom he could leave in charge of the gaming house. With an inheritance at stake, Lucius would have preferred not to trust matters to me,” concluded Louisa bitterly.

  “He must indeed be a monster!” exclaimed Henrietta. “Oh, my poor love! But I collect you did manage to persuade him to allow you to go in the end.”

  “Do you know how I went to work on him, Henrietta? You’ll never credit how guileful I was, nor how much I despised myself for the deception I was forced to practise. He didn’t know Mama’s disposition — how gentle, how loving she was, how she would have given me her all at any time —” Her voice choked with emotion and she was obliged to break off for a while. Presently she resumed in the same hard, bitter tone as before. “He judged everyone to be as hateful as he was. So when I said that Mama, if I did not answer her summons and go at once to Harrogate, might change her will and leave everything to my aunt, he was quite convinced that there was a real danger of losing the inheritance. He allowed me to go alone, without so much as a servant to attend me. Fortunately, my experiences since marriage have made me more self-reliant than most gently bred females.”

  Henrietta nodded. “I can well understand that. And afterward, after the funeral, how did you contrive? Since you didn’t return to Ireland, I suppose your husband must eventually have followed you to Harrogate.”