“I’ve often puzzled over that point since. Lucius did not follow me, although I received a letter from him during the time I remained at my aunt’s house, in which he announced his intention of joining me as soon as Clavering had returned to Dublin. That letter finally made up my mind, Hetty! I was now possessed of a considerable fortune, and I was determined that my worthless husband should never get his hands on it. I ran away in earnest. I went to a remote village in the Dales, and there hid away for four months. No one knew where I was, not even my aunt, though she would never have willingly betrayed me to Lucius. I could not afford to take the risk of his persuading her by force.”
“She must have been most anxious for you.”
“We did finally communicate,” replied Louisa. “That is how I knew my husband had never come seeking me in Harrogate, nor written to me again.”
“It is certainly odd that he did not,” mused Henrietta.
Louisa shrugged. “I’ve learnt simply to accept it thankfully and not to seek reasons. After five months had elapsed since my leaving Dublin, and there was still no word of him, I began to feel safe. Can you imagine what it was like, Hetty, after months of anxiety, at last to be able to feel tolerably secure? By that time, I was heartily sick of my solitary confinement in the country; you know I am not a lover of rural pursuits, and I was longing for a dash of town life! And so I took a house in Bath, not so far from the place that had been my childhood home. I’d already been passing myself off as a widow in the Dales, and Bath is just the place for widows!”
Her voice was more lively now, and for the first time, she laughed.
“So I came here in June, and was soon settled in and as nearly content as I might be. I had almost forgotten all the misery of the past, for you know I am not one to dwell on gloomy thoughts, and I’d resolutely put by all my fears of discovery. There was only one circumstance that marred my new-found peace of mind. And that —” she gave a deep sigh — “can never be removed, alas.”
“I know,” said Henrietta softly. “Captain Barclay.”
Louisa nodded, her cheeks colouring. “Is it so obvious?” she asked with a catch in her voice.
“Not to anyone but myself, I assure you. And I was watching you very closely on the only occasion when you gave any sign. It was at one of the concerts, when they played that sonata of Beethoven’s with the sweet, rippling notes — you know the one.”
“Yes, I do know.” She paused a moment, then went on. “It’s not a young girl’s infatuation, such as I felt for Lucius, but a deep, sincere, mature love founded on respect and trust. He’s so much everything that a man should be: kind and considerate, yet firm in principle, modest, perhaps too modest to feel that he has any chance with me! Hetty, if only you knew what it might mean to me to find security at last in such a man’s affection! But talking pays no toll,” she finished. “There can never be anything between us. I am married, and nothing can remove that obstacle.”
Henrietta was silent, unable to offer any consolation beyond an affectionate pressure of her hand on Louisa’s shoulder.
“Many things are clear to me now, my love,” she said after an interval. “I always wondered why you were so insistent that you would never marry again, especially after I’d guessed that you cared so for the captain. And there were several incidents I never understood, which now I can comprehend. You seemed upset after meeting Colby that morning in the rain, when he and Fortescue escorted me to your carriage. Tell me, Louisa, was it he who sent you the note that you received later that day?” she asked.
“Yes, it was. Of course, I was expecting to hear from him after that encounter, and I knew he would find some way to turn my situation to the best advantage for himself. Therein lay my only hope, after the dreadful shock of finding him in Bath! If I could but buy his silence… It was the one glimmer of light! His note suggested a meeting for that same evening, and I kept the rendezvous.”
“I already know of that,” said Henrietta quietly. “I saw you leave the house, and I followed you. It was perhaps not an honourable thing to have done, but I was so concerned for you, Louisa. You seemed quite unlike yourself, and I thought you shouldn’t be out alone in that state of mind.”
Louisa stared. “You followed me? Did you see me meet Clavering, then?”
“I saw you with someone but couldn’t recognise that person, although I knew it was a man. It came over me suddenly that I ought not to be spying on you, and that if you chose to meet a gentleman clandestinely it was none of my business, so I slipped away before you could discover me.”
“I see. Well, at that meeting we came to an agreement. I was to keep silence about his concerns and in return — and for a fee, besides! — he would not betray me to my husband. He started by asking me if I’d heard anything from Lucius since I’d left Dublin, and seemed gratified in some odd way when I told him there’d been no news since that first letter. I asked him if he knew the reason, but he didn’t answer, and I have never since been able to extract any explanation from him. I was past caring, however, so long as he would promise to keep my secret. I knew, of course, that I could depend on his silence only as long as it suited his fancy. That was why I had to agree to help him, once he had formed the intention of marrying you. You do see that, don’t you, dearest Hetty? I hope you can find it in your heart to excuse me a little, for in the end I couldn’t bring myself to the ultimate betrayal.”
“Of course I forgive you. What else could you do, my poor love? And what can you do now, I wonder?”
They embraced each other, both shedding tears. Presently Louisa disengaged herself, a resolute look on her face.
“I must run away again, perhaps somewhere much farther off. The Continent, somewhere overseas,” she said determinedly. “It will be a while before Lucius can arrive here, for first Clavering will need to inform him of my whereabouts. That should give me time enough to make my arrangements and disappear completely.”
“Oh, no!” exclaimed Henrietta in dismay. “There must be some other way than exile, alone and friendless! Are you quite certain that Colby will inform your husband? I should have thought that a man of his cupidity would prefer to keep your secret so that he could continue to extort payment for doing so.”
“You don’t know his vile temper. He’ll do anything to pay me out for your refusal, which he’ll attribute principally to me. Besides, he knows well that when Lucius gains control of my inheritance, he himself will benefit. Those two have always worked together and shared the spoils, though why they should do so is a mystery to me. They are both ready enough to cheat everyone else! Of course, if he could have succeeded in marrying you, he might have agreed to keep my secret. But now he must realise that I’ll have told you of his villainy, and this will make it difficult for him to remain in Bath. Moreover, he’s finding the town too expensive for his purse, even with the contributions to it I have been forced to make. No, I fear I cannot at all rely on his silence any longer. And you must see, Hetty, that even if he did agree to stay here and say nothing, my own situation would now be intolerable. I always knew that there must come a time when I couldn’t continue with matters as they stood, but I was at my wits’ end to know what else to do!”
She pressed her hands to her face in a distracted gesture.
“That’s not to be wondered at,” replied Henrietta in a gloomy tone. “It’s a dreadful dilemma.”
She brooded for a few moments, then suddenly brightened.
“I tell you what, my love, it needs a man’s experience of the world to grapple with this affair and try conclusions with Colby! We are no match for such as he! I wonder, now; Captain Barclay would do anything to serve you. Could you not —”
“Oh, no!” exclaimed Louisa. “Of all men, I could not approach him! Besides, what if he were to call out Clavering? It would involve him in the most monstrous scandal! No, far better that he should never see or hear from me again, than that I should bring disgrace upon him!”
Henrietta nodded.
“I understand your feelings. Then what about Sir Giles? If you were to confide in Almeria, she could ask his advice. And I’m sure you won’t object to taking Almeria into your confidence, for haven’t we all three shared our secrets since we were girls together? Let us go to her now, Louisa, for I’m sure there’s no time to be lost.”
“Well, if you think it will be of any use, I shall seek advice from Sir Giles, though I’ve little hope that anyone can see a way out of my particular difficulty. Lucius is my legally wedded spouse, and nothing can alter that.”
“Still, one never knows,” said Henrietta in a rallying tone. “As I said before, gentlemen have more experience in dealing with rogues.” She glanced at the clock. “Shall we go to Almeria’s now? It’s close on five, and we should find her at home at this hour.”
Louisa agreed, and had the carriage brought from the stables in readiness. She was about to go and put on her outdoor attire, but she paused irresolutely with one hand on the doorknob.
“You’ll think me craven, I know, Hetty, and so I am, but I positively dread facing Almeria. Our girlhood scrapes were one thing, but this — the shock will be severe! Do you think I could explain it first in a letter, so that she has time to recover a little before she and her husband come to discuss matters with me? I wouldn’t then find it so difficult to talk to them.”
“Of course I understand, dear. The strongest spirit would quail before such a task,” said Henrietta gently. “But a letter would also present difficulties, I think. I have a much better notion,” she went on, energetically. “Why do not I go alone to explain it all to Almeria? Then, after she has informed her husband, they can both accompany me back here to consult with you. I’m sure once they know how desperate is your plight, they’ll be ready to come immediately.”
Louisa thanked her with tears of gratitude, and Henrietta at once set out on her errand.
Chapter XXVII
Having parted from the Runner Trimble at the York Hotel, Aldwyn drove home and went straight up to his room to change from his buckskins and Hessians into something more suitable for his evening engagement with Barclay. It was just after five o’clock. His invitation had been for six, but Barclay had said that he might go earlier if he chose. No point in delaying for another half hour, he thought, especially since there was a good deal to impart to the captain.
He had just taken up his hat and cane and was on the way to the street door when the knocker sounded. The butler, always alert, moved smoothly past Aldwyn to answer its summons; opening the door, he revealed a lady, quite unaccompanied, standing on the step. She was immediately invited to enter. But when she began to enquire urgently for Lady Barrington, he shook his head.
“I regret, madam, that Sir Giles and milady are from home,” he replied.
“Oh, dear, how unfortunate! When do you expect them back?” she asked anxiously.
It passed through the butler’s mind that it was not his place to know the exact time when he might expect his employer’s return, but he suppressed this, answering instead that he could not be certain, but he thought they might be rather late.
“Oh, dear!” exclaimed the lady again, evidently perturbed.
The butler was about to mention that Mr. Aldwyn was at home, when that gentleman himself came forward.
“Miss Melville.” He bowed. “You wished to see my sister on a matter of some urgency? Perhaps I could deliver a message for you. Be pleased to step in here, ma’am.”
He opened a door leading off the hall. After a moment’s hesitation, Henrietta entered the room and Aldwyn followed, closing the door behind him.
“Pray be seated, ma’am.”
Henrietta took the nearest chair, perching uneasily on its edge. She did not quite know what to do. She had been confident of seeing Almeria.
Something of her trouble showed in her face and was not missed by Aldwyn’s keen eyes.
“You are in some kind of difficulty, Miss Melville, I believe,” he said quietly. “My sister’s absence has evidently put you out. Is there any way at all in which I may serve you in her place? Assure you, I am only too willing.”
His kind tone, so very different from the one in which he had addressed her at their last meeting alone together, brought tears to her eyes. He saw this, too, and with difficulty restrained himself from taking her hand in a comforting clasp.
“You are very good,” she said, faltering a little, “but I think I must not trouble you. Perhaps the delay may not matter as greatly as I fear.”
“Delay in communicating some news to Almeria, do you mean, ma’am?” he asked swiftly. “May I inquire if it’s of importance to her or to yourself?”
“To neither of us directly, but only as friends of Mrs. Fordyce. It concerns her. Louisa urgently wished to consult Almeria — I should more correctly say Sir Giles, for it is a matter in which she requires a gentleman to advise, rather than another female. But since neither your sister nor her husband are here —”
“If Barrington would have served your purpose, why not myself?” he demanded with a reassuring smile. “I’m here on the spot and more than willing to assist in any way possible. I’ve no wish to brag, of course, but I think I may safely promise to accomplish whatever it was you were about to ask of my brother-in-law.”
She considered for a moment. It was quite true that Sir Giles would be no better able to advise than Mr. Aldwyn in such a seemingly hopeless situation, and at least the latter was already aware of Colby’s dubious character. She could not think that Louisa would raise any objection to admitting the brother as well as the sister into her confidence. But how on earth should she begin the story? The recent quarrel between Julian Aldwyn and herself did not make matters any easier; she naturally still felt some constraint with him.
He attributed her hesitation to this latter cause and hastened to do his best to reassure her.
“I understand how you must be feeling, ma’am,” he said in a diffident tone. “Your recent experiences with me cannot have encouraged you to place me in the role of confidant. But if for the moment you will forget — though you cannot forgive — my transgressions, and allow me the privilege of rendering you some assistance by way of expiation, I will do my utmost on your behalf, assure you. Or on Mrs. Fordyce’s,” he added.
“It’s not that,” she replied hurriedly. “Our — disagreement is quite swallowed up in my present distress on my friend’s account. Yes, I do think you might be able to help quite as well as Sir Giles, though indeed I fear that the business is past anyone’s help.”
“Tell me exactly what is the trouble,” he urged, leaning forward in his chair and fixing a gaze of keen concentration on her anxious face.
“I hardly know where to begin,” she confessed with a helpless little shrug. “Mrs. Fordyce has just made the most astounding revelations to me! And she is in such distress that I cannot think she would object to my repeating the story to you in your sister’s stead. After all, it may soon become common knowledge if the worst ensues.”
“You may rely absolutely on my discretion, but I trust you’ll realise that.”
“Indeed I do, though discretion may be impossible,” she replied despondently. “First I must tell you that Mr. Colby plays some part in this affair.”
His face hardened. “Colby? You don’t surprise me! I’ve learnt a good deal more about that villain today than I knew formerly, and all of it bad! His real name’s Clavering, and the Runners are after him. I talked to one of them about him at some length only a few hours since.”
“The Runners?” she gasped. “Do you mean the Bow Street Runners? Oh, you must tell me everything you know at once. This may mean a reprieve for my poor Louisa!”
His eyebrows shot up at this remark, but he decided to let it pass for the moment.
“Willingly, ma’am.”
He proceeded to explain the circumstances that had led to his meeting with Trimble in the Llandoger Trow, and to give her an account of their conversation. She listened without any in
terruption beyond an occasional involuntary exclamation, but at the conclusion she looked downcast.
“You think he has gone for good?” she asked anxiously.
“That was the conviction the Runner had, and he must be experienced in such matters. He said Colby had left a few personal items of no value lying about the hotel room, doubtless in order to give the impression that he’d be returning. He hadn’t paid his shot, so the landlord reported.”
“Oh, dear, then I fear my friend’s case is desperate indeed.” Her lip trembled, and she was obliged to bite it hard. “He’ll most likely be bound for Ireland again and will betray Louisa’s whereabouts. He has been blackmailing her ever since he arrived in Bath.”
“The damned scoundrel! I beg your pardon, ma’am, but only oaths can do justice to that fellow! I think perhaps you’d better now tell me the nature of Mrs. Fordyce’s secret. Has she —” he paused, wishing to put this as delicately as possible — “has she perhaps become unwittingly involved in some of the nefarious schemes that her husband and Colby put into execution? They were two of a kind, by what I heard! Poor lady, I pity her sincerely, whatever she may have done.”
“No, she has never taken part in any of their frauds, except to the extent of acting as hostess at their gaming house in Dublin, and that was forced upon her by her brute of a husband. No, Louisa’s only fault — if fault it can be called, when her married life was such a misery! — was to run away from her husband and pass herself off as a widow. She came here in January to attend her mother’s deathbed alone, for her husband couldn’t leave Dublin at that time, owing to Colby’s absence. Colby and Mr. Fordyce were partners in a gaming house.” She repeated the details of Louisa’s story, ending with Clavering’s part in the matter. “He knew the truth about her and extorted money to keep her secret.”
Aldwyn leapt to his feet with fists clenched.
A Conformable Wife: A Regency Romance with a spirited heroine Page 26
