In All Honour

by Beth Elliott

  ‘I have discovered that your brother is a notable whip,’ began Lizzie, fixing Greg with her most appealing smile.

  ‘Did he tell you so?’ Greg raised one eyebrow.

  Richard grinned. ‘Don’t let me down, Brother. I have promised to drive her to Wells.’

  Greg stared at both of them forbiddingly. ‘As I said, Lizzie, you are a minx. We will go to Wells when I can organize a proper party for the journey. Please be a little patient.’ He waited until she nodded, then turned to Sarah. ‘I take it you would join the party?’

  ‘Certainly,’ she said in her usual voice. ‘I should very much like to see the cathedral.’ Greg noticed the shadows under her eyes. Again he felt the urge to smash his fist into Lord Percival’s hard, sneering face. The man was sauntering past, in company with a fellow dressed in an extremely tight-waisted jacket and with shirt points touching his cheeks. This had to be the Lord Montallan the others had been laughing about.

  Lord Percival caught Greg’s eye and then he stared pointedly at the bruises still so obvious on Greg’s face. He curled his lip and moved away. Greg’s various aches all throbbed as he remembered the moment he had been hurled against the tilbury. Was the man threatening him? He glanced round at Sarah but she had gone.

  Then he saw her with her brother. James had a hand on her back, pushing her towards Lord Percival. Greg manoeuvred himself so that while he talked to the others in the group he could see what would happen. He saw Lord Percival take Sarah’s hand and bow deeply over it. He held on to it for far too long. Greg clenched his teeth.

  ‘Did you hear what I said?’ asked Lizzie, breaking in on his concentration.

  ‘Mmm? Er … yes,’ he answered vaguely. Now the blackguard had pulled her arm through his and was strolling round the vast room with her by his side.

  ‘… so that is agreed,’ Lizzie’s voice broke in again. ‘Perhaps we should go this afternoon. The weather here is so unsettled, if we wait for tomorrow it may rain….’

  Greg grunted and gave a nod. He shifted to keep an eye on Sarah but the crowd now hid her from sight. He gave an impatient sigh and looked down at Lizzie. She eyed him severely. ‘You were not listening,’ she told him, ‘but it is no matter. You said yes.’

  ‘Did I?’ He looked at his brother in appeal.

  Richard laughed. ‘You agreed to let me drive Miss Elizabeth round the town in your curricle. We are going this very afternoon.’

  Sarah walked unwillingly round the room side by side with Lord Percival. He had drawn her hand to rest on his arm and she felt she was his latest trophy being put on display. The contrast with Greg could not have been brought home more strongly. Then she had felt his warm concern and attention to her welfare; now she had the distinct feeling that she was a prisoner.

  She was aware that Lord Percival was scrutinizing her closely.

  ‘You have changed your style of dress, Miss Davenport. Permit me to tell you that it is not becoming. A little more dash would suit you far better.’

  She looked away. It was not his affair. A tiny smile tilted her lips at the knowledge that her clothes displeased him.

  ‘I cannot wait for the day when I will decide what you wear,’ he continued in his rich drawl. ‘I prefer to see a woman displaying her charms.’ His eyes went insolently to her bosom. He gave a bark of amusement as she tried to jerk her hand out of his arm. He caught her wrist in a vice-like grip and forced her hand back into place. His expression changed, warning her not to defy him.

  ‘Your pardon, sir,’ she said coldly, for all her voice trembled. ‘Mrs Keating is signalling that she wishes to speak to me.’

  ‘Then we will go together,’ he hissed. ‘We are going to do everything together from now on. You know that.’

  ‘I cannot imagine where you got such a notion,’ she said through clenched teeth. ‘Have the goodness to let me go.’ She stopped walking and pulled against him, trying to free her hand.

  He swung round towards her. There was a dangerous gleam in his eyes. His thin lips compressed. She thought he would strike her, he looked so furious. Then his friend Lord Montallan appeared and Percival turned the glare on him instead.

  ‘Thought I recognized you, George – and Miss … ah … er….’ The dandy’s eyes kindled with pleasure. ‘By Jove!’ He gave Lord Percival a meaningful look, then swept off his hat with an exaggerated flourish. Lord Percival loosened his grip to bow in his turn.

  Sarah seized her chance and pulled her hand free. She stepped back out of reach. ‘Gentlemen,’ she said icily, with a brief inclination of her head. She whisked herself away, darting through the many groups of people, back towards Lizzie and Greg.

  But, as she approached, she saw Lizzie, with a hand on Greg’s, looking up at him and saying something with a winning smile. Then Greg laughed and nodded. Sarah’s heart, already bruised, seemed to wither inside her chest. She lowered her head, afraid her face might betray her pain and so she failed to see another gentleman who was quietly observing her from a short way away. John Keating raised his brows and sighed heavily.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  It was growing dusk when Lizzie returned from the drive with Richard. She shed her pelisse and bonnet and gratefully accepted the cup of tea that Sarah poured for her.

  ‘So, is he a good whip?’ asked Sarah, keeping her back to the window. She had been thinking over the events of the morning and all Greg’s good qualities. It was somehow more melancholy than if he were a rake. The outcome had been a few tears and she was not sure whether or not Lizzie would notice.

  Lizzie took a gulp of warm tea. ‘Ah, that is so nice.’ She glanced up, ‘why have you not rung for candles? It is getting dark in here.’

  ‘I was wool-gathering and only roused when Polly brought in the tea tray. It is quite cosy with just the firelight. But tell me, where did you go? Have you set the Bath gossips in a roar?’

  Lizzie waved an airy hand. ‘Not at all. Everything was most proper and correct – a tour of the King’s Circus, the Royal Crescent and most of the main avenues. Those horses are very high bred and strong but Richard handles them well. It was a very pleasant afternoon.’

  She giggled and got up to pour herself another cup of tea. ‘As luck would have it, we nearly did have a collision with a coarse fellow in a gig. I just do not know how Richard managed to stop the horses in time. Fortunately we were in Great Pulteney Street at the time and the road is wide there. The other driver was so rude. Goodness, how he did curse and shout. I never heard such language! And he looked as horrible as he sounded, what with his red face and green jacket—’

  ‘Green jacket?’ Sarah’s cup clattered into the saucer. ‘Was he a big, rough-looking man?’

  ‘Indeed, he was. He looked like a labourer.’

  ‘But this is extraordinary.’ Sarah forgot her own pressing worries as she remembered the man who had pushed Greg into the road. Could it be the same person? She determined to speak to Greg about the matter when next they met.

  There was no assembly that evening. Sarah played backgammon with General Gardiner while Lizzie continued reading her Gothic novel. The evening was passing quietly. Sarah felt secure in the company of these two old friends. But who knew what tomorrow would bring? Lord Percival was hunting her now. It would take all her determination to convince him that he was not going to succeed.

  The clock had struck ten when they were all startled by a knock at the front door.

  ‘Were we expecting anyone?’ asked the general. When both girls shook their heads, he grumbled, ‘Deuced strange time for a visit.’ He had shed his jacket and loosened his cravat. His feet were in soft slippers and he was too tired and too comfortable to make the effort to tidy himself up. They all sat with their heads turned towards the door, listening.

  ‘It cannot be Aunt Augusta … can it?’ whispered Lizzie. She clasped her hands in a silent prayer.

  A footstep was heard, then the servant knocked and entered.

  ‘If you please, sir, Lord Davenport wishes
to speak to his sister.’

  ‘Well, show him in,’ sighed General Gardiner.

  ‘He says it is a private matter, sir.’

  Sarah stood up hastily. She pulled her shawl round her shoulders and went out into the entrance hall. James was there, swaying a little. His face looked grey and his eyes sunken. Her anger with him forgotten, Sarah clasped his hand and rubbed it.

  ‘James, whatever is wrong?’

  ‘You know very well,’ he pronounced, slurring his words.

  She smelled the brandy on his breath. Her shoulders slumped. How could he break free of his destructive behaviour?

  ‘Please, James, go back to Russeldene. You need some time to rest and clear your head of all these mad schemes.’

  He shook her hand off. ‘Mad?’ His voice rose. ‘Unless you do as I ask we are ruined.’

  She clenched her fists. ‘You are ruined! I will not submit to this plan; it is preposterous.’

  ‘Alice thinks you should accept,’ He backed away, ready to leave. ‘Warn you, Sister, no other choice now. He will talk to you tomorrow.’

  ‘James … wait – there is something else I need to ask you.’ Sarah watched his face intently. ‘Why is Mr Thatcham so angry with you?’

  He snarled at her, wrenched the door open and walked out.

  It took Sarah a moment before she moved forward to close the door and shoot the bolts. Then she stood with her back against it, staring into space with a frown on her brow. Lizzie eventually came out and found her there.

  ‘Why, Sarah, did he bring bad news? You are so white. You look quite strange.’

  Sarah shook herself. ‘I must admit James worries me. He gambles too much – and drinks,’ she added.

  Lizzie laughed. ‘Why, my two brothers do that. He will reform when he gets older.’

  ‘I wish I could think so.’ Sarah let Lizzie draw her back into the sitting-room. She sat down and stared into the fire. It was some time before she realized that her two companions were sitting in silence, waiting. She looked from one to the other. Lizzie gave her an encouraging smile. General Gardiner was looking at her very carefully. He raised his brows when she turned his way.

  ‘You are very pensive, my dear. Is everything well with your brother?’

  Sarah opened her mouth and closed it again. No words would come out. She shook her head.

  ‘James has been gambling and drinking,’ put in Lizzie.

  ‘Like most young men,’ remarked the general wryly. ‘But he is worrying his careful sister.’ He watched her with a sympathetic eye. ‘Perhaps I should have a word with him about that.’

  Sarah could feel her eyes filling with tears. She bent her head down and so did not see Lizzie shake her head at her uncle.

  ‘Well,’ continued the general, ‘I expect things will seem better after a good night’s sleep. I think we have finished our match for tonight. If you will ring the bell for Hughes, I shall retire.’

  He struggled to his feet and in the business of helping him with his stick and his snuffbox, Sarah was able to appear more like herself and wish him goodnight in her usual manner. She then busied herself with putting the backgammon away before turning to find Lizzie waiting, her arms folded firmly and a gleam in her eye.

  ‘Are you going to tell me why James has upset you so?’

  Sarah twisted her curls furiously. This was too big a problem to reveal.

  ‘Whatever it is,’ went on Lizzie softly, ‘please do not go away and leave me here alone.’

  Sarah swallowed a sob. Suddenly, the burden seemed too great to carry all alone. Twisting her shawl between her fingers, she said, ‘James has gambled away everything.’ She looked at Lizzie. ‘Everything!’ she repeated in a trembling voice. ‘I fear that I no longer have a home to go to.’ She gulped and stared at her friend. There was a shocked silence. Then Lizzie leaped up and came to put her arms round her.

  ‘It does happen. How can they be so reckless? This is shocking news, poor Sarah. But you always have a home here with us, you know that.’

  Sarah made a pitiful attempt at a smile. ‘Dear Lizzie, that is so kind. For the moment I accept, but of course, I shall have to find some way of earning my living.’ She drew a painful breath.

  ‘Surely not,’ said Lizzie in horror. ‘There must be some gentleman for whom you feel a partiality. Or if not now,’ she added, as Sarah shook her head vehemently, ‘you will soon meet someone suitable.’

  ‘That is not a good solution,’ said Sarah wearily. ‘I think now that I prefer to trust to my own skills. Suppose I married a gambler.’ She moved towards the door. ‘Come, it is late now. Your uncle is right. Perhaps the night will bring counsel.’

  Much later, as she lay staring at the ceiling, Sarah was no nearer finding a solution to her problem. If she went to Alice, it would only be until that lady pushed her into the arms of a husband – the first man willing to take her. For the moment she was safe with Lizzie and General Gardiner but her pride would not allow her to remain with them when their stay in Bath came to an end. And in any case, she must leave them before Lizzie married Greg. It was already so hard to see them smiling and laughing so cosily. She did not want to hate her best friend but the pangs of jealousy did shoot through her far too often already.

  She shifted restlessly. Now it was time to consider the plan she had first thought of at Russeldene. She had always been a good scholar and had made the most of her education. Perhaps her old headmistress would consider giving her a post, or else recommending her as a governess. Sarah grimaced. The grey gown and tightly braided hair had indeed been a taste of her future. But if it freed her from James’s wicked plot, it would be worth it.

  As long as Lord Percival thought he could coerce her into marriage, he would keep James dangling on a string, taking the very clothes from his back. Once she disappeared, perhaps he would drop him. Then James might come to his senses. She remembered him as a rather shy and awkward young man, but on inheriting the title and estate, he had gone to London and been swept up into a dissipated way of life by new friends.

  Sarah wished with all her heart that he could be more like the Thatcham brothers; energetic, open and interested in sports rather than gaming. She pummelled her pillow angrily. She must not think about Greg. She had seen with her own eyes on so many occasions that he was close to Lizzie. She could not blame him for that. Lizzie was one of the sweetest and most generous persons she knew, as well as a very pretty girl and an heiress.

  Eventually she drifted off to sleep and dreamed of walking in the Parade Gardens with Greg. She was trying to explain why she could never marry him but it became so involved she woke up. There were tears on her cheeks.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  In spite of her mainly sleepless night, Sarah found she was unable to stay in bed once dawn showed in the sky. She dressed and slipped downstairs. In no time she was out in the street, walking up to the top of the road and then turning blindly into the street up towards the grand new Royal Crescent with the open fields below it. There she could get some much needed fresh air.

  It was so early that she could not see very far yet but the day was fine and dry. The brisk walk helped to soothe her aching head but it brought no solution to her woes. On one thing, however, she was absolutely determined: bitter as it was to lose Russeldene, she was not prepared to save it by selling herself to a scoundrel like Lord Percival. He had already shown that he would be a cruel master and would expect obedience to all his whims. To be his wife and obliged to obey him in everything would be to make her life intolerable.

  A laden cart rumbled past, on its way to the market. That put Sarah in mind of the man in the green coat. She must speak to Greg about her suspicions. But her mind was immediately taken up again with the sad loss of her home. She walked on, not noticing where she was, only wanting to feel the wind in her face and open space all around.

  Eventually she realized that she had crossed the park and she was passing a row of cottages in a little lane leading out of the
town. Ahead of her she could hear a shepherd, driving his flock out to pasture. She must turn back. Reluctantly, she did so, feeling suddenly exhausted. By now it was full daylight. She reached Royal Crescent again and made her way along the wide pavement. But already there was an increase in the number of carts and riders on the road below.

  It seemed a long way back but at last she turned into the Circus, crossing it on her way down to Milsom Street. Just before she came to the road out of the Circus, a gentleman on a splendid bay horse appeared, trotting towards her. She gaped in astonishment at Lord Percival. His many caped driving coat was liberally caked with mud, as were his boots. He spotted her and an expression of fury crossed his face. She was so astonished that she did not turn away in time.

  Lord Percival reined in and stepped his horse towards her. The beast looked as if he had been ridden hard. ‘This is a strange time and place to find you, Miss Davenport.’ He sounded put out. ‘Do you have some purpose in being here?’ He frowned at her.

  Even in her surprise and dismay, Sarah found that a strange question. She noticed that he was dishevelled and his eyes were red-rimmed. In addition, his clothes were much plainer than usual. He needed a shave. In fact, he looked as if he had been up all night. He was still glaring, waiting for an answer.

  ‘I have been on an errand, sir, and am taking a short cut to return home.’

  ‘An errand?’ He seemed uneasy. ‘To do with me?’

  She frowned. ‘Not at all. A household matter.’

  ‘Oh!’ He sounded relieved. Then, assuming his usual swaggering manner, he said, ‘I shall expect to see you later on, in the Pump Room. You know what I shall ask.’

  Sarah shot him a scornful look. She marched off, head held high, her spine ramrod straight. Behind her, she could hear him cursing in a low voice. She judged that both he and his horse were too weary to follow her. How could she have known that he was lodging in this place? Of course, given his taste for extravagance, he would want to be in an expensive location. Sarah pressed her lips together in a grimace. No more walking through the Circus.