“If I could only lay hands on that —” he substituted a more seemly word for the one that first sprang to his lips — “that unmitigated scoundrel, I’d choke the life out of him! He was practising the most damnable deception on Mrs. Fordyce in order to blackmail her, for there was no secret to keep — at least, no one to whom he could betray that unfortunate lady. Her husband was dead by then; she was in very truth a widow.”
“Louisa’s husband dead?” Henrietta repeated his words dazedly. “Are you quite positive, Mr. Aldwyn? There can’t be some mistake?”
“None. I had that information together with the rest from the Runner. He gave me chapter and verse, for when they were searching for Colby after his flight from London, they made a full investigation in Dublin, thinking he might have returned there. They discovered that Colby had been at the gaming house early in February when a brawl took place in which his partner Fordyce was shot dead by some infuriated youngster who had been fleeced by the pair. Naturally the law was brought in, and Colby fled to London to escape reprisals. It appears,” he added grimly, “he spends most of his time on the run. It seems odd that no one should have informed Mrs. Fordyce of her husband’s death.”
Henrietta shook her head. “No, because no one but Colby would know where she had gone. There were no relatives on her husband’s side, moreover, and she had made no friends. Who would be likely to take the trouble to trace her? It’s not as though there would be an inheritance in the case; I expect her husband left nothing but debts.”
He nodded. “So I was informed.”
Henrietta had so far been too astounded by his news to realise the full importance of it, but now she leapt excitedly to her feet, her face alight.
“Oh, I must go at once to Louisa and tell her the good news! I suppose,” she added more soberly, “it’s a dreadful thing that one should view a man’s death so joyously, but if indeed you knew how she has suffered!”
“I can well imagine, tied to such a man. Yes, you will wish to return to her at once. Did you come here in a carriage, Miss Melville?”
She nodded. “It’s waiting outside. I told the coachman to walk the horses up and down a little.”
He rang the bell, and directed that a servant should be sent out to summon the coach to the door.
“I’m bound for Pulteney Street myself, to dine with Barclay,” he said. “I had intended to walk, but I’m a trifle late for that, now. Would you have any objection, ma’am —”
She broke in before he could frame his request, a happy smile on her face.
“Why, of course you must share my carriage! I haven’t yet thanked you, Mr. Aldwyn, for your kindness in listening to me, but I certainly do so now. Oh, if only I could have known what a weight would be lifted from my shoulders, and all through your agency! Of all things, it is the most wonderful!”
“I’m happy to have been the means of bringing you relief, though such a small service scarcely warrants thanks,” he replied as he escorted her to the street door.
He handed her into the waiting carriage and stepped in after her.
“Should Mrs. Fordyce require further details of this affair,” he said as the vehicle moved away, “you will know where to find me.”
“You are very good,” she replied warmly.
He said no more for a while, but studied her covertly by the soft light of the street lamps. He thought how lovely she was, how loyal in friendship, this, the only woman he would ever desire for his wife. He had guarded his heart so rigorously against this emotion that flooded his being. And now only an iron control could prevent him from expressing his feelings to her in fervent words. He never doubted that this control was essential after all that had previously passed between them, how could his addresses be other than unwelcome to her now?
He did not speak again until they were crossing over Pulteney Bridge; Henrietta had likewise been silent.
“I shall of course tell Barclay what I’ve discovered today concerning Colby,” Aldwyn said at last. “He put me on the trail, so he’s entitled to know. Do you consider that Mrs. Fordyce would prefer me to withhold that part of the story that most nearly concerns her? I promised you my discretion, and I’ll not go back on my word. I imagine, though, that you’d have no objection to my sister knowing, since you intended originally to confide in her.”
“Oh, yes, certainly you may tell Almeria. Louisa would eventually do so herself, I know, especially since the outcome is so much brighter than we had feared! As to Captain Barclay — do you know,” she said impetuously, “I believe Louisa would like him to be told, though I’m certain she would shrink from saying anything herself. She has a special regard for him. Oh dear, that was indiscreet of me, but at present I feel so light-hearted, my tongue runs away with me, I fear!”
“Has she so?” Aldwyn smiled. “How difficult it is for a mere male to fathom the workings of the female mind! But she had good reason, of course, to dissemble any interest she may have felt. That barrier is now removed. Shall I join you in being indiscreet, and tell you that Barclay… But perhaps you’ve already divined the poor fellow’s secret. Ladies are so very expert in such matters.”
“I think half Bath must know of it!” said Henrietta with an attractive little chuckle. “Don’t you agree, sir, that it would be a pity for two such delightful people to remain apart, when their friends might contrive a little to bring them together? Now, if you were to relate Louisa’s history to Captain Barclay —” She broke off, turning a face alight with mischief toward him. He caught his breath, resisting with difficulty a strong impulse to seize her in his arms.
“What incurable matchmakers you females are!” he exclaimed in as light a tone as he could manage. “But I’m exactly of your opinion, so I’ll tell Barclay the whole. It won’t be easy to encourage him, for he’s a devilish modest chap, but I’ll do my possible!”
She burst out laughing, and after a moment he joined in. Just then the carriage pulled up outside Louisa’s house.
“I fear we’re a pair of wicked conspirators, sir! But how impossible it seemed when I set out from here less than an hour since, that I would come back laughing!”
“If I were a philosopher,” remarked Aldwyn as he assisted her to alight, “I might find some suitably profound comment. As it is, I can think only of trite sayings, so I’ll spare you. Good night, ma’am, and I trust your friend’s heart will soon be as light as yours.”
As he plied the knocker on the captain’s door, he reflected that amidst all this rejoicing he seemed to be the only one with no reason to be happy.
Chapter XXVIII
For a time after Henrietta had left him, Colby’s temper continued at white heat. Having passed through the village, he tooled his curricle along at a rate that it was ill constructed to endure, even if constant hirings had not undermined its original condition. His thoughts were bitter. He had been so sure of the Melville female, damn her! She had seemed to prefer him far above the other men who paid her attentions. It was a thousand pities that he had been obliged to hurry the business on and pop the question so soon; perhaps another few weeks would have taken the trick. Impossible to delay longer, however. Bath was a damnably expensive place, and he had been disappointed in the sums received for the jewels he had so far managed to trade. Louisa Fordyce’s extorted contributions had helped a little, but he needed much larger funds to continue to keep up his part in style. He had lost another source of income, too, when that young whelp Fortescue had left town. No use playing off his tricks on men of the stamp of Hinton-Wellow and Kennett; they were downy birds who would soon rumble him.
It began to look as though he would be well advised to quit Bath without more delay, and not only for financial reasons. If his dubious dealings in the London gaming houses were known to Aldwyn, that gentleman might soon make it his business to convey the information to others beside Henrietta Melville. It was damnably bad luck that Aldwyn should have come lately from London. Yes, on the whole there seemed nothing for him now but to c
lear out and make a fresh start elsewhere, but the question was where? Spas were useful places for meeting rich widows of mature years who would be particularly susceptible to his brand of whimsical Irish charm. Tunbridge Wells, perhaps?
One thing was certain, he dared not return to either London or Dublin. It was useful that he possessed a handy bolt hole in Bristol where he could find lodging for short spells. Mick Byrne and that shrew who might or might not be his wife had been useful allies in the past and would help him again as long as their rewards were commensurate with their trouble. It was they who had put him onto Ned Bly; though he now considered that he might have made a better bargain elsewhere. Had Byrne taken an extra cut from Bly in addition to what had already been agreed, or had Bly himself done all the milking? No end to the frauds that could be perpetuated when one was forced to employ agents.
Fordyce and he had agreed long ago that the best way to ensure an effortless life of luxury was to marry a wealthy woman. Fordyce had done quite well at it. Even if his bride had come to him with only a moderate dowry, as she was the only offspring of a wealthy mother in failing health, expectations of her were considerable. No male relatives to put a rub in the way, either. Bad luck that Fordyce had got himself killed just as he was about to reap the full harvest. Colby wondered idly how long it would be before Louisa Fordyce learnt the truth; perhaps never, as no one in Dublin would be interested enough to inform her, and she would certainly keep away from Ireland. It seemed a pity that he had to abandon this lucrative side-line, but he had an instinct for trouble, and that meant moving on. His main object must still be to make a wealthy marriage. The difficulty was that he would need considerable funds to set himself up in another town in the proper style to rub shoulders with the right company. If he could find a really profitable market for the rest of the jewels, now…
At this moment he was passing by Queen Square and chanced to observe the tail end of a crocodile of young ladies returning to Miss Mynford’s Seminary. At once his fertile mind was struck by a new idea. He remembered the day when he had met Henrietta Melville and the Florey girl in Milsom Street. The chit had run on endlessly about all the details of her daily routine at the Seminary. He had automatically stored the information away in his mind, not because he then expected that it would ever be useful, but because of a lifetime habit of overlooking nothing that might at some time be turned to his advantage.
His ill temper disappeared in a flash, and a wide grin spread over his face as he began to elaborate a plan. It would require the assistance of Mick Byrne and his doxy, and also of the housemaid at the seminary. Now what the devil had the brat’s name been? Molly, Mary — Matty, that was it, Matty! And she came from the Melvilles’ village, as Henrietta had explained on their way home. Do anything for Miss Melville, most like, and Anna Florey had said that Matty was a sound ally in any of the pupils’ escapades.
Yes, the plan seemed plausible, and it would kill two birds with one stone, he thought maliciously. No doubt that Henrietta Melville was very fond of the Florey chit, so he would pay her out nicely for turning him down and thereby forcing him to quit Bath.
Matty had for some time been awaiting a suitable opportunity for a quiet word with Miss Anna, but it did not arise until five o’clock when the young ladies went up to the dormitory to change into their evening white muslins.
Quickly drawing Anna apart from the others, Matty handed her a letter.
“From Miss Melville, Miss,” she whispered urgently. “That gent Mr. Colby brought it, who came ’ere with her once. You’d best read it quick, Miss, as you and me’s got things to talk over.”
Thrilled immediately by this scent of mystery, Anna unfolded the note and skimmed hurriedly through its contents, then turned a radiant face toward the maid.
“Oh, Matty, what famous news! A fete at Kelston Park with fireworks! And Mr. Aldwyn to be present, as well as Miss Melville! No time to apply for permission to Minnie, she says; just as well, for I’d never obtain it, not for an evening outing! Miss Melville says you know all about the arrangements. Tell me quickly, please. Oh, I’m so excited, I can scarce draw breath!”
“Yes, I will, but — but you’re sure it’s all right, Miss Anna?”
“All right? Of course it is! It may take some contriving to slip out without being detected, but that only makes it more fun!” declared Anna rapturously.
Matty was much the same age as Anna Florey, but she belonged to a less privileged social class and possessed the caution of her kind.
“I only wondered, Miss,” she said haltingly, “that letter not bein’ in Miss Melville’s writing, which I knows from the letter of reference she give me for Miss Mynford when I first comes ’ere.”
“Isn’t it Miss Melville’s handwriting? I hadn’t noticed. Anyway, what does that signify?” asked Anna, sweeping the objection aside. “I dare say she was too busy to pen it herself, so asked someone else to do it for her. Now pray, don’t waste any more time, Matty, or I shall never get changed in time for dinner!”
Matty obediently repeated the instructions she had earlier received from Mr. Colby. A carriage was to be waiting in the square at eight o’clock, the hour at which all the pupils retired to their dormitories. Matty was to smuggle Anna out by way of the servants’ staircase and the side gate. Anna would be brought back to the seminary promptly at a quarter to ten, when Matty must be ready and waiting to conduct her by the same route to the dormitory, so that she might be safely in bed when Miss Mynford made her final room check.
“She won’t notice my absence at half past eight when she comes to see that our bedside candles are out,” said Anna thoughtfully. “The dorm will be in darkness, and she only peeps round the door. But I’ll have to confide in the others, as they’ll know I’ve slipped off somewhere. Yes, and then, you know, they can do something to help. Put a bolster in my bed and cover it up so that it looks as if I’m there,” she added with a giggle. “Minnie never looks properly, but still, it’s just as well to be prepared.”
There was no time for any further discussion, as already most of the young ladies were dressed and starting to brush their hair. Matty left the dormitory, while Anna, with more haste than care, flung off her daytime attire and scrambled into her muslin.
“And just what have you been whispering about to Matty?” demanded one of her schoolfellows. “Some mischief, I’ll be bound!”
“Why, yes, it is,” admitted Anna cheerfully. “Come here, all of you, and I’ll tell you a famous secret! But I mustn’t speak too loud, so come close.”
They all gathered round while Anna explained what was afoot.
“Oooh, Anna, you are lucky!” exclaimed Sylvia. “No one ever offers to take me on exciting outings!”
“Are you sure you ought to go?” asked Caroline Bovill anxiously, for Anna was her particular friend and Caroline well knew the other girl’s impetuous nature. “There’d be a frightful fuss if you were found out!”
“I must say,” remarked Charlotte Brisbane disdainfully, “that it seems a little odd for an older lady to suggest a clandestine expedition of the kind. My married sister would never for one moment entertain such a shocking notion!”
“She must be as stuffy as you are then!” retorted Anna hotly. “I know what it is: you’re jealous, all of you! And I am going, so you may say what you like. I dare say I’ll manage very well without your assistance — that’s to say, so long as you’re not mean enough to give me away.”
There was a general outcry at this; whatever their feelings might be about the wisdom of the escapade, no one would dream of informing on her. Caroline and another of the girls at once promised to put a bolster in Anna’s bed, and other offers to help were eagerly made. Charlotte contented herself with reminding the others sharply that if they did not make haste with this foolishness, and present themselves in the dining room, they would all be in serious trouble. Recognising the wisdom of this warning, they hastened to complete their toilet and were ready to go downstairs as soon as the
first note of the dinner bell sounded.
Anna’s appetite was usually as hearty as that of anyone present at the senior girls’ table; but tonight she ate little, feeling replete with excitement, and thus earned an unwonted reprimand from the mistress in charge.
She suffered agonies of suspense when the girls repaired to the drawing room for their nightly recreation of board games, music, and conversation. When at last they were dismissed to the dormitory, she headed the procession up the stairs instead of being, as usual, one of the dawdlers at the tail.
Once in the dormitory, she quickly slipped out of her muslin and into the more serviceable daytime gown, changed her light slippers for half boots, and took out a dark, hooded cloak. By which time Matty had breathlessly arrived, bringing the good news that all was clear on the backstairs and in the kitchen through which they would need to pass. After a brief exchange in excited whispers with her schoolfellows, Anna quickly followed the maid from the room.
Her heart was beating fast with excitement and apprehension as they tiptoed down the servants’ staircase, through the dim, deserted kitchen, and out into the kitchen gardens. On this unknown terrain in the darkness of the moonless night, Anna clung closely to her guide. There was only one bad moment, when they disturbed a marauding cat that scuttled across their path, causing Anna to let out a startled, hastily stifled cry. At last they reached the side gate; Matty opened it stealthily, and they emerged into the square.
A hackney carriage was drawn up and waiting. The door of the vehicle was opened at once, and a gentleman alighted; they saw that it was Mr. Colby, who beckoned to them imperatively. They went toward him, and he held out his hand to assist Anna into the coach.
Almost bursting with pent-up excitement, she started to enter; then paused with one foot on the step, disconcerted at seeing that there was no one inside.
“Miss Melville; where is she?” she asked in a whisper.
A Conformable Wife: A Regency Romance with a spirited heroine Page 27
