The Waverly Women Series (3-Book Bundle)

by M C Beaton

  Frederica felt a great lump in her throat. She wondered whether Lord Harry joked about her with his friends, whether they had betting books in the clubs with her name on them, everyone laying odds on her seduction.

  “You do not need to marry,” she said.

  “My funds are running low. There is nothing else I can do,” said Caroline, beginning to cry in earnest.

  “You can act,” said Frederica fiercely. “Just think. You have a career which makes you independent of men.”

  “I am no longer young and I have lost my looks.”

  “Nonsense!” said Frederica. “Do actresses earn much money?”

  Caroline dried her eyes. “Not much in London, but a very great deal in touring the provinces.”

  “Surely you could try.”

  “I am so very tired,” said Caroline. “I am afraid my future lies with my fiancé.”

  ***

  The headache that Caroline had claimed to have was very real by the time she returned to her lodgings. When Lord Harry was announced, she longed to refuse to see him, but then thought she would feel better if she got it off her chest about how she had let him down.

  “You look dreadful,” said Lord Harry. “The colonel been nagging you? Do you know, he is the champion of the Waverley household… and so I am afraid that Lady Harriet must disappear. I am progressing favorably as it is.”

  Caroline looked at him wearily. “I went out walking with Miss Frederica Waverley this afternoon,” she said. “She told me you had met her in secret and had kissed her.”

  “What gossips you women are! Is nothing sacred?”

  “She is, as you well know, of very doubtful parentage,” said Caroline severely. “In fact, she does not even know who her parents were. Had your intentions been honorable, then you would have approached Mrs. Waverley for her permission to pay your addresses, rather than hire an actress. I told her who I was. I am shortly to enter into a marriage with Colonel Bridie. I shall not be very happy. Miss Frederica Waverley has the right of it. We women owe loyalty to each other in this world of men. I would not see another woman unhappy—I could not see such a charming girl seduced to amuse even such as you, Lord Harry. I owe you my life—”

  She broke off as Lord Harry held up his hand.

  “Caroline,” he said severely, “you have a nasty, low mind. What on earth would be the point in me asking that old trout, Waverley, for permission? I would be refused, the door slammed in my face, and Frederica’s movements would be watched like a hawk. But now I will have to do just that, for Frederica will never believe me otherwise.”

  Caroline looked at him in dismay. “You mean you really do want to marry the girl?”

  “Have I not been saying so all along?”

  “But it all seems so odd. You could have anyone. You came to me with your plan after you had first met her and barely knew what she looked like.”

  “It’s those plays you used to act in,” he said mournfully. “They have given you such a low opinion of my class. We are not all wicked seducers, striding about the countryside demanding our droit de seigneur.”

  “I shall go back to her—” began Caroline, but he interrupted her.

  “No, that would not answer. I shall contrive something on my own. But what of you, my faithless friend? Why so wretched? although wretched you deserve to be. What has the good colonel done to alienate your affections?”

  “Nothing. But he expects me to obey him in all matters and I am used to my independence.”

  “Mrs. Waverley has upset you. What you are describing is an ordinary marriage.”

  “Perhaps. But I do not love him.”

  “I am rich. I will give you a pension.”

  Caroline looked at him, her eyes swimming with tears. “I cannot do that. If I must be under an obligation to someone, I shall marry the colonel. I am not dying now, thanks to you, and can stand on my own feet.”

  “By lying on your back in the colonel’s bed? Think of it, sweet Caroline. My pension would surely be preferable.”

  Caroline moaned and clutched her temples. “Leave me,” she said. “Only first, say you forgive me for ruining your chances with Frederica.”

  “I forgive you, but do consider my offer.”

  Lord Harry strolled along the noisy, congested streets of Covent Garden, buried in thought. He stopped as he was passing the playhouse and then, after only a moment’s hesitation, plunged into the fusty gloom of the theater and asked to see the actor manager, Mr. Josiah Biggs. He sat in the Green Room and studied the paintings of various expressions of dramatic emotion hanging on the walls.

  Mr. Biggs came in, holding Lord Harry’s card.

  “What can I do for you, my lord?” he asked.

  Lord Harry swung around. “Do you remember Caroline James?”

  “Ah, yes. Poor Miss James. Died of consumption this age.”

  “No. She recovered in Switzerland and now resides a few streets away.”

  Mr. Biggs’s eyes gleamed with sudden hope, and then he said gloomily. “Married with ten brats, no doubt.”

  “No, not married,” said Lord Harry. “Still a fine-looking woman.” He tapped a poster on the wall with his quizzing glass. “More a Lady Macbeth now than a Juliet, but I should swear she still has in her that great power of hers. Do you remember how she could silence the pit with just one look?”

  “My lord,” said Mr. Biggs, clasping his beringed hands together as if in prayer, “it comes about that Mrs. Anstruther, who was to play Lady Macbeth, is sick… and I cannot get anyone very well known to replace her. But if I could bill the triumphant return of Miss Caroline James… well…”

  “Give me a piece of paper,” said Lord Harry. “See! Here is her address. If there are any financial difficulties with the production, I would be glad to supply you with the necessary money.” And with the manager’s heartfelt thanks ringing in his ears, Lord Harry set off again, wondering how to get Mrs. Waverley to receive him.

  Chapter Five

  As soon as Mrs. Waverley had finished her morning lessons and left to examine the housekeeping book, Felicity slammed shut her Latin primer and said, “What ails you, Freddy? You look so tired and worn. Didn’t you sleep?”

  “No, I didn’t sleep,” said Frederica. “Oh, Felicity, I have made such a fool of myself.”

  “How so?”

  “Lord Harry led me to believe he wanted to marry me, but instead he was playing a game to amuse himself.”

  “What is this? You cannot have seen him alone…. So that’s why you picked a quarrel with me yesterday. You went off to meet him. For shame, Frederica! You, of all people, to be so easily gulled by such as he.”

  “You see, Lady Harriet is not his sister. She is not even Lady Harriet. She is an actress called Caroline James. Lord Harry hired her to plead his case.”

  “So he has been using one old mistress to entrap a new and younger one?”

  “Miss James told me she had never been his mistress and I believe her. She said she could no longer go on with the masquerade. She said she had done it because she owes Lord Harry a great debt. I feel so wretched, so foolish. I let him kiss me, Felicity.”

  Felicity looked at her sadly. “There is something so wild and unbridled about you, Frederica. You must realize that our background is such that no one of any standing can want to marry us.”

  “Tredair married Fanny,” said Frederica stubbornly.

  “But he did want to marry her at all times, did he not? He did not hire an actress.”

  “What am I to do? He has taken the house next door.”

  “Just be thankful his lusting after you put him next door, where he was able to save you from those thieves, and forget him. You must tell Mrs. Waverley.”

  “No!”

  “Yes, you must. For what if he returns to the attack?”

  Frederica shook her head. But the fact that she really should tell Mrs. Waverley weighed heavily on her mind. At last, by early afternoon, she felt she could bear it no longer
. She went to see Mrs. Waverley, who was sitting at a desk in the drawing room, writing letters.

  Mrs. Waverley heard her out in grim silence. Frederica left out the bit about the meeting in the garden and the kiss.

  “Frederica,” said Mrs. Waverley, “you must remember we do not know your origins, and they were no doubt common, which is why you do things that no gently bred lady would even think of doing, such as encouraging the attentions of a rake like Lord Harry. Oh, yes! When we were leaving for Lady Mackay’s, I noticed how you fawned on him in that bold way.”

  “I was merely trying to thank him properly for saving my life,” said Frederica, “a politeness you seemed determined to deny him.”

  “Has it not occurred to you,” said Mrs. Waverley, “that a man who hires an actress to impersonate his sister may well have corrupted our poor maid, Annie Souter, and arranged that so-called robbery so as to appear a hero in your eyes?”

  Frederica shivered. “No, that was real.”

  “Colonel Bridie,” announced Mrs. Ricketts from the doorway.

  “No, do not leave, Frederica,” said Mrs. Waverley. “The colonel shall hear this.”

  “I pray you, Mrs. Waverley,” said Frederica desperately, “do not humiliate me in front of strangers.”

  “Colonel Bridie is no stranger. Welcome, Colonel. We have discovered a most shocking thing. A lady who has ingratiated herself into this household masquerading as Lady Harriet Danger is none other than the actress, Caroline James!”

  It was at that moment that the full, shocking enormity of Lord Harry’s behavior struck Frederica, for the colonel looked almost ready to faint.

  “This cannot be possible,” he whispered.

  “But it is, I assure you,” said Mrs. Waverley.

  The colonel sat down heavily. He had not told Mrs. Waverley the name of the lady to whom he was engaged, for he was secretly ashamed of Caroline’s past profession.

  He had no intention of telling Mrs. Waverley anything about it now. He was burning with jealousy.

  “Where does Lord Harry reside?” he asked.

  “Next door. He has rented the house next door, and all, I am sure, as part of his plan to seduce my poor Frederica.”

  The colonel rose to his feet. “Leave him to me, ma’am,” he said. “When I have finished with him, he will wish he had never been born.”

  “That is a rare man,” said Mrs. Waverley, smiling mistily when the colonel had left. “So strong! So brave!”

  “I would have thought Mr. Bridie to be all that you despise in men,” said Frederica. “Bullying, patronizing, and arrogant.”

  “You ungrateful girl! He has gone on your behalf. I only hope that philandering lord is getting what he richly deserves!”

  Lord Harry was preparing to go out when the colonel was announced. He did not want to see him but sensed trouble and thought he had better get it over with as soon as possible.

  His valet was holding his shirt, ready to put it on his master, when the colonel came striding in. The colonel had his gloves in his hand, ready to strike the foppish Lord Harry across the face and challenge him to a duel.

  But the sight of the half-naked lord gave him pause. Lord Harry’s smooth and hairless chest was hard and muscled and his face, devoid of its usual pleasant, mocking expression, was firm and set.

  “Sit down, Colonel,” said Lord Harry, “and state your business.”

  “I will not sit down in your house, sirrah!” blustered the colonel. “You are a seducer and a liar.”

  “So Miss James told you of her masquerade?”

  “No, she did not. I found out from Mrs. Waverley. Just what are your relations with my fiancée?”

  “Miss James is an old friend and that is all. I should not need to tell you this. Your own knowledge of Miss James’s character should be enough. I could not have embroiled her in this affair had I known that you yourself would become a guest in the Waverley household, or had there been any other way to get Miss Frederica to marry me.”

  “Marry you? You surely do not mean that. I know your sort. I know—”

  “If you keep talking about my sort and being insulting, I shall have to call you out.” Lord Harry’s normally pleasant voice was like a whiplash.

  “You cannot expect me to believe you,” said the colonel. “All you have to do is to ask Mrs. Waverley leave to pay your addresses.”

  “And you think that is simple? Very well. Come with me, my dear colonel, and you shall hear me try.”

  Despite his distress over Caroline’s deception, the colonel could not help anticipating pleasurably the look of admiration on Mrs. Waverley’s face when he bore Lord Harry into the drawing room. With any luck, Mrs. Waverley would think he had forced this lord into proposing marriage.

  Mrs. Waverley was sitting with Frederica and Felicity. As soon as she saw Lord Harry behind the colonel, she tried to send the girls from the room, but the colonel stopped her, saying, “Let them stay. All must hear Lord Harry’s explanation.”

  Lord Harry looked quizzically at Frederica, who blushed slightly and turned her face away.

  “This is most unusual,” he said lightly. “More like making a political speech. I resorted to the disgraceful plan of getting Miss Caroline James to masquerade as my sister, and for that I am truly sorry. But what else was I to do? How can I court a lady when I am not allowed near her? But now I am here in your drawing room, Mrs. Waverley, and I must beg your permission to be allowed to pay my addresses to Miss Frederica Waverley.”

  Frederica stared at him, wide-eyed.

  “No, I will not grant you permission,” said Mrs. Waverley. “You, sir, have caused your mistress, an actress, to ingratiate herself into the bosom of my household. You are not fit to breathe the same air as my Frederica.”

  To Frederica’s surprise, Lord Harry cast an amused look at the colonel, who shuffled his feet miserably and stared at the ground. “Have you not something to say in the defense of Miss James, Colonel?” asked Lord Harry.

  “How can such a sterling character as Colonel Bridie have anything to say in the defense of a common, deceitful actress?” boomed Mrs. Waverley.

  The colonel took out his watch and looked at it, and affected a very—to Frederica—stagy start of surprise. “Good heavens! Is that the time?” he cried. He threw a peculiarly pleading look in the direction of Lord Harry.

  “If you must go,” said Mrs. Waverley, “then take Lord Harry Danger with you.”

  “Do I understand you refuse your permission, Mrs. Waverley?” asked Lord Harry.

  “Of course, I refuse permission.”

  “And what has Miss Frederica to say to that?”

  “I am Frederica’s guardian and she will be guided by me.”

  “For a so-called modern woman, you are sadly old-fashioned,” said Lord Harry. “Miss Frederica would have more freedom were she married to me.”

  “Frederica has plenty of freedom.”

  “My dear lady, the Season has begun, and yet the only outing the Waverley girls are allowed is round and round the square.”

  “Nonsense. We go out to many functions.”

  “We don’t,” said Felicity, who was always on the lookout for ways to manipulate Mrs. Waverley into giving her more freedom. “I fear you are afraid to go abroad.”

  “And quite right, too,” said the colonel, “after all Mrs. Waverley has been through.”

  “Still here, Colonel Bridie?” demanded Lord Harry, with a sweet smile. “Have you not something to tell Mrs. Waverley?”

  “No,” barked the colonel. “Just away.”

  “Good day to you, Lord Harry,” said Mrs. Waverley. “We shall not be seeing you again.”

  “I doubt that,” said Lord Harry. “Your servant, Miss Frederica.”

  He looked hopefully at Frederica, but she kept her eyes lowered.

  Once out in the street, Lord Harry mocked the colonel. “Oh, faithless one.”

  “It’s all your fault,” raged the colonel. “Miss James is all t
hat is respectable, and I am going to find out how it was you managed to coerce her into behaving so disgracefully.”

  He strode off down the street. Lord Harry shrugged and began to walk to his club. There must be some way he could get Frederica to want to see him alone. He wondered who her parents had been, and then he began to wonder if Frederica did not often wonder about her parentage. Why! Of course, she must wonder. How then would she react to an offer of help? A slow smile curled his lips and he asked the club waiter to fetch him paper, pen, and ink.

  ***

  Colonel Bridie walked through the narrow lanes of Covent Garden, his head bent. Someone tried to shove a playbill into his hand and he shied away. Playbills were usually still wet from the printer and had a nasty way of ruining gloves. What did he really know of Caroline James? All those years ago when he had seen her on the stage, he had thought her magnificent. Much as the colonel despised actors and actresses, he loved going to the playhouse, and although he would not admit it himself, he was stagestruck. That this woman he had worshipped from afar was soon to be his bride had made him feel the luckiest man in England. And yet he was anxious to hide the fact that she had been an actress. He was confident that as Mrs. Bridie, and buried in the country, no one would know anything of her past.

  But Lord Harry must have been her lover. Why else would she do such a disgraceful thing as trying to fool poor Mrs. Waverley?

  Another playbill was held out in front of him. He was about to wave it away when suddenly the name, Miss Caroline James, seemed to leap up at him. He stopped stock-still and took the playbill in the tips of his fingers. Miss Caroline James was once more to appear on the London stage, screamed the black letters. A triumphant return. She would play Lady Macbeth the following week.

  He shook his head like a baffled bull, and then, dropping the playbill in the kennel, he seized his stick firmly in his hand and headed purposefully in the direction of Caroline’s lodgings.

  He prayed it would transpire to be some mad joke of Lord Harry’s. He prayed someone had made a dreadful mistake. But as he mounted the narrow stairs to Caroline’s apartment, her clear voice sounding from above mocked his hopes. “‘Fie, my lord, fie! A soldier and afeard? What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our power to account? Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him?’”