by Ann Barker
‘We had decided that we would go,’ replied Henrietta. ‘I am indeed writing a book, which is to be set in London, and I would like my characters to visit Vauxhall. Yet how am I to make the scenes there realistic if I have never been myself?’
‘You are very right,’ Ashbourne agreed, his tone as serious as if they had been discussing some point of law. ‘Who will believe your tale if you make simple mistakes that even a child could spot? I do trust that you were not intending to go alone. I feel that I should warn you for Jez, I fear, is inclined to be somewhat intrepid.’
Jessie, who had been on the point of sipping her wine, choked, and while Ashbourne took her glass from her, Henrietta kindly provided her with a handkerchief. ‘Oh dear, you have splashed wine on your fichu. Perhaps you had better change it.’
‘If you can find another one,’ murmured Ashbourne.
Jessie turned a fulminating glance upon him before leaving to go to her room. Once there, she removed the fichu, put it into the basin on the cupboard in the window, and added water from the ewer. She would ask Dilly to wash it later after the visitor had gone. She was about to open her drawer in order to get another square of linen to tuck into her neckline, when she caught sight of her own reflection and paused to look more carefully into the mirror. Today, she was wearing a dull gold gown with thin brown stripes. The neckline was low, but not immodest. After a moment’s thought, she put on a golden chain and locket which had been given to her one birthday by Lady Agatha. Then she went back downstairs.
The two occupants of the room were chatting as she came in. On seeing her, Ashbourne took up his quizzing glass, which hung on a ribbon around his neck. ‘Charming,’ he murmured, as he examined her.
Feeling oddly breathless at his scrutiny, Jessie reclaimed her wine, and said, ‘Have you made any decisions about Vauxhall?’
‘Why, certainly,’ Henrietta replied. ‘Lord Ashbourne has had such a good idea.’
‘Please, call me Raff,’ said the earl.
‘So kind,’ said Henrietta, her eyes glowing.
‘Just don’t let Henry hear you doing so,’ put in Jessie in rather a waspish tone.
‘Oh no,’ answered her hostess. She looked regretfully at Ashbourne. ‘It seems so unfair, doesn’t it?’
He shrugged. ‘I’ve made my bed. Anyway, Jez, my suggestion is that we should go to Vauxhall on a masquerade night. That way, we may go masked and nobody will be able to recognize any of us.’
Not long afterwards, he rose to take his leave. He gave Mrs Machin his card. ‘Tell Hinder to contact me here,’ he said. ‘I’ll talk to him about the arrangements.’
Before he left, Jessie found the opportunity to speak to him without her hostess hearing. ‘I warn you, Raff, Henrietta may want to watch you playing the rake, but if you do so in front of me, I shall come home immediately, escort or no.’
Ashbourne inclined his handsome head. ‘Rest assured, my dear Jez, that with you present, I shall save my raking for another occasion.’
Chapter Eleven
It was very agreeable to have gentlemen to make arrangements for one, Jessie decided, as she returned from visiting the poor house two days later, accompanied by Dilly. This was a luxury that had not come her way very much. As the companion of Lady Agatha, she normally found that arrangements for holidays, visits or parties were her responsibility.
For the visit to Vauxhall, matters had been taken completely out of her hands. Raff had made it his business to discover the date of the next masquerade. He had passed on the information to Mr Hinder, who had told them that it would be the following week. Raff would make all the travel arrangements and, in addition, he would book a box and bespeak a supper. All they had to do was to organize their clothes and get themselves ready on time. He would do himself the honour of calling for them at seven o’clock. For a woman who had never been anywhere or done anything, it was heady stuff and would be something to remember when she was a sedate clergyman’s wife. She could not help giving a little skip as she arrived back at the house and opened the door. ‘Hettie, I’m home,’ she called.
‘Jessie, my dear, such a delightful occurrence,’ said Henrietta, meeting her in the hall, with an expression on her face which was one of warning rather than delight. Behind her stood Henry Lusty.
‘Henry,’ she declared after only a moment’s hesitation. ‘This is a charming surprise. Are you able to stay for long?’ She was guiltily aware that her mind had leaped immediately to the question of whether he would be gone before the Vauxhall masquerade.
‘Jessica, my dear,’ he said, stepping forward and taking her hand. ‘Henrietta tells me that you have been out attending to the needs of the poor. That is very seemly; very seemly indeed. I am glad you took a maid with you. These London streets are not safe for a lone female.’
‘No, so I believe,’ she replied, thinking that on that one subject, if on nothing else, he and Lord Ashbourne would certainly agree.
‘Well, shall we all have a cup of tea?’ suggested Henrietta.
‘That would be a rather unnecessary luxury, I would have thought, when it cannot be long until dinner,’ answered Henry, putting an end to that particular conversation.
Jessie handed her outdoor clothes to Dilly, then went into the drawing-room. Once inside with the door closed, Henry said, ‘I will greet you properly now, if I may,’ and leaned forward to kiss her on the cheek. Jessie was stabbed by guilt as she recalled how a similar salute from Raff had caused shivers to run up and down her spine, whereas Henry’s embrace left her completely cold. Then her feelings of guilt were increased as he looked down at her hand and said, ‘Where is your ring, Jessica?’
‘I never wear it to go to the poor house,’ replied Jessie honestly. She did not add that she frequently forgot to put it on at other times as well. Then, she added less truthfully, ‘I do not like to … to flaunt jewellery when I go there.’
Henry’s puzzled look cleared. ‘You do very right, my dear. I see, too, that you have returned to your customary modest garb, which pleases me.’ The gown that she was wearing was old, and reserved only for visits to the poor house, but naturally she kept that piece of information to herself.
‘For how long are we to have the pleasure of your company?’ asked Henrietta brightly. ‘I do hope that it will be for a good long time.’ Jessie struggled to hide a smile. She knew that Mrs Machin was also thinking about Vauxhall.
He shook his head. ‘My stay can only be brief, I fear. I have a matter of business to deal with tomorrow morning. I will be with you over the weekend, of course, as I will not be travelling on a Sunday, but I must go back on Monday.’ Both ladies tried not to sigh with relief.
Shortly after that, they all went upstairs to change. Jessie looked carefully amongst her clothes and, with some reluctance, took out an evening gown that she had not worn for some time. It was cut rather high in the neck, and the waistline was lower than had become fashionable. It was also in a very sober shade of brown. Thinking ruefully how very different she looked from when she had gone to the theatre, she went downstairs for dinner confident that she could be commended for her sobriety. She almost left her room without her ring on, but remembered to don it at the last moment. It felt very strange on her finger. Guiltily, she was aware of how seldom she wore it.
Henrietta was already downstairs when she arrived, and Jessie suspected that her hostess had been busily hiding away any evidence of her novel writing. She found herself marvelling at the fact that both the clergy widows with whom she was acquainted appeared to be mistresses of deceit. Lady Agatha, with whom she had resided for several years, thought nothing of manipulating all kinds of people to get her way. Mrs Machin had constructed a whole other occupation for herself so that she could write scandalous novels in secret. Now she, Jessie, engaged to be married to a clergyman, was already deceiving him in an underhand fashion. Would she be doing the same as those two other ladies in twenty years’ time?
In the event, the evening passed pleasantly enough
. Henry had one or two mildly amusing tales to tell concerning church business, and some messages from Lady Agatha, whom he had made it his business to visit before he had set off for London. He also had rather a momentous piece of news. ‘The bishop favours me to be the next incumbent at Illingham,’ he said, beaming at Jessie. ‘It looks as though you will be able to stay in your own home after all, my dear.’
Jessie stared at him, not knowing what to say. Fortunately, her lack of response was more than adequately covered by Mrs Machin’s exclamations of delight. ‘My dear brother, your own parish! The very thing you have always wanted! How thankful you must be!’
‘Yes indeed,’ Jessie added, her temporary silence overcome. ‘Congratulations.’
‘My position as vicar of Illingham is not yet confirmed,’ he said, a little tight-lipped. ‘There is some question about a signature from Lord Ashbourne which he has not yet been inclined to give. As soon as he and the bishop have signed the document, then it will all be settled.’
Jessie was a little anxious that Mrs Machin, who had seemed to have had quite a preference for Raff, might react in an indignant manner. To her relief, the lady’s obvious powers of invention did not desert her now, and she merely smiled and turned her attention to her floating island pudding. ‘That must be very vexing for you, dear. I’m sure that Lord Ashbourne is not doing it on purpose, however.’
After a moment’s pause, Mr Lusty agreed, ‘Of course not,’ and then went on to talk about other things.
That night, Jessie thought about the news that Mr Lusty had brought. She had always known that he had his eye upon the parish of Illingham, but foolishly enough had never imagined herself living there as his wife. If she had ever pictured married life with him, it had been in some fictitious place, far from those she knew. Now, the idea of returning there after her marriage seemed unsettling, and although she could not put her finger on why, the notion kept her awake long after others in the house had gone to sleep.
The following morning, coincidentally, both ladies were up betimes, but not so early as Henry, who had spent an hour in the book-room before they arrived downstairs for breakfast. On learning this, Mrs Machin darted an anxious glance at Jessie, and Jessie could guess that she was thinking how glad she was that she had put all her novel writing things away out of sight.
As soon as breakfast was over, Mr Lusty declared his intention of walking into the City in order to transact his business. ‘I will be back later and perhaps this afternoon we might visit the poor house,’ he suggested. Jessie was thankful that she had been truthful in her descriptions of her work there. At least in introducing Henry to the matron she would have nothing to blush for. Indeed, he seemed so pleased and proud at her efforts that, as she took his arm to walk home, she felt as contented about her forthcoming marriage as she had ever done, and quite guilty about deceiving him. Her behaviour seemed doubly wrong when she reflected that he was only snatching a day or two’s leisure, whilst she was enjoying herself in the capital. For two pins she could have told him about the Vauxhall scheme. She remembered in time that it was not just her secret to disclose.
*
On Sunday, Mr Lusty, Mrs Machin, and Jessie all set out to attend St George’s for the morning service. The day was fine, and the walk promised to be agreeable. Mr Hinder appeared and asked for permission to join them.
‘There are one or two questions of philosophy that have been on my mind, and I would be glad to have your thoughts upon them, sir,’ he said to the clergyman.
‘Certainly,’ replied Mr Lusty, smiling benevolently. ‘In what way may I assist you?’
‘I was wondering whether you had any views on the writings of Rousseau?’
Mr Lusty’s face went rigid with disapproval. ‘That is very shocking material you are reading,’ he said. ‘I am persuaded that it will not do you any good.’
‘Do you really say so?’ asked Mr Hinder.
‘Come, Jessie, let us walk ahead,’ said Mrs Machin, seizing her opportunity. ‘The gentlemen have much to discuss, I can see.’ As soon as they were out of ear-shot, she said, ‘I cannot tell you how relieved I was when Henry said that he is leaving tomorrow. What on earth would we have done about Vauxhall had he stayed?’
‘I expect we would just not have gone,’ Jessie replied.
‘Yes, but think,’ Henrietta insisted. ‘We would have had to send word to Raff telling him not to come. Can you imagine the scene had he turned up at the door cloaked and masked, with Henry in residence?’
‘Oh heavens!’ Jessie exclaimed. She could picture the situation all too vividly.
‘We really ought warn him, ought we not?’ said Henrietta thoughtfully. ‘It would never do if he were to send us some message about our outing, and Henry were to receive it.’
‘Hettie, do you think we ought to confess to Henry what we are planning?’ Jessie asked, after they had walked in silence for a short time.
‘Good heavens, no,’ Henrietta exclaimed, much alarmed. ‘How can you even suggest such a thing?’
‘I have a guilty conscience,’ Jessie confessed in a small voice.
‘I cannot imagine why,’ said Henrietta candidly. ‘Jessie, we have not done anything wrong, nor are we planning to do so. Attending Vauxhall is not a crime, is it?’
‘Well no, but—’
‘Henry would not approve,’ Henrietta interrupted, finishing her thought. ‘I dare say he would not. That is why we are not telling him. We are indulging in a little harmless amusement, not intending to steal the crown jewels!’
They reached the doors of St George’s without realizing how far the gentlemen had fallen behind. ‘Goodness,’ chuckled Henrietta, ‘And they say that ladies like to talk! Had we better go in, do you think? We do not want to miss the beginning of the service.’
‘Do you find yourselves without an escort, ladies?’ said a familiar voice. ‘May I assist?’ They both turned in astonishment to see Lord Ashbourne clearly preparing to enter the church. Like Henry, he was dressed in black, but somehow, on him the sombre shade looked decadent rather than sober and puritanical. As always, his garments fitted him to perfection. The linen at his wrists and throat was dazzling white, as were his stockings, which were decorated with gold clocks.
‘Raff!’ exclaimed Jessie. ‘You are not intending to go into church!’
He grinned wickedly. ‘Strangely enough it is permitted. I do not dissolve into a pile of ash on crossing the hallowed threshold, either.’
Henrietta looked round. ‘My brother should be with us,’ she said, frowning a little.
Ashbourne raised his brows. ‘He would seem to be late,’ he murmured in disapproving tones. ‘Well? Shall we go in?’
As there was no sign of Mr Lusty or Mr Hinder – who had, in fact, become so involved in a heated debate in which the former propounded the doctrine of original sin, whilst the latter just as vigorously defended the essential goodness of human nature, that they had stopped to argue on the corner of Mount Street – the ladies consented to go inside with Ashbourne, where he found them all places to sit.
It was immediately obvious that his presence caused something of a stir. Jessie heard his title mentioned under several people’s breath, and a number of worshippers, notably ladies, turned to look at him. All of this attention he ignored effortlessly, and Jessie could not help thinking that he must be very used to it. She told herself firmly that it would surely be exceedingly annoying to be married to the owner of so much male charm and beauty.
There was still no sign of Mr Lusty and Mr Hinder when the service began, but the church was so full that it would not be difficult to miss them. They rose to sing the first hymn, ‘All people that on earth do dwell,’ and Jessie was rather surprised to hear Raff, who was standing next to her, striking up with enthusiastic vigour. He certainly did not conduct himself as one who only attended church if he had to.
At the close of the service, the earl escorted them out of the building, where they found Mr Lusty and Mr Hinder waiting.
The clergyman did not look very pleased, and his expression of displeasure was doubled when he caught sight of who was escorting his womenfolk.
‘My lord,’ he said, with a stiff bow. He turned to his sister and Jessie. ‘I am sorry that you did not wait for us. It was most unfortunate that we were not able to sit together.’
‘We did not want to disturb your debate,’ Henrietta replied. ‘Shall we return home, now? R …’ Just in time, she recollected that her brother would hardly approve of her addressing one of London’s libertines by his Christian name, let alone his nickname. ‘Lord Ashbourne,’ she went on, ‘would you care to join us for a little light refreshment?’
Ashbourne bowed, his hand over his heart. ‘I’m honoured, ma’am,’ he replied, the twinkle in his eye revealing that he had guessed how she had almost slipped up.
‘I am sure that Lord Ashbourne has many other calls upon his time,’ said Lusty repressively.
‘Not on a Sunday,’ Ashbourne replied virtuously. ‘I should be delighted to join you and your party, Mrs Machin.’
Lusty was all for setting off immediately, but their departure was not to be effected so quickly. Last time they had visited St George’s, they had been beneath the notice of the fashionable. Today, because they were with Ashbourne, they at once became objects of curiosity, and by the time they managed to get away, almost being dragged down the steps by Mr Lusty, Jessie had been introduced to a duchess, two countesses, a marquis and at least half-a-dozen fashionable matrons, all of whom appeared to know Raff exceedingly well, more than one promising to call once Jessie’s connection with Lady Agatha had been explained.
By the time they were at last able to begin their journey home, the rigid cast of Henry Lusty’s countenance would have assured any but the most obtuse person that he was in a bad temper. Not wishing to make his mood worse, Jessie took the arm that he offered her, and allowed him to walk with her a little ahead of the others, leaving Mrs Machin the pleasure of being escorted by two gentlemen. She had no doubt that Henrietta would make the most of the opportunity to warn Raff not to mention Vauxhall. Jessie felt another pang of guilt. Bad enough that they should be deceiving Henry themselves; they were drawing Raff and even Hector Hinder into conspiring in the deceit as well.
