Gerard laughed, and tucked her hand under his arm.
'Why do you care? Are you one of these ladies who wish to make life better for everyone, and you are giving advice, starting on your friends?'
'I am quite aware I cannot make life better for many people, but I can make an attempt for people I love!'
'Don't worry, I will not fail Fanny, if that is your concern. I'll take her to as many parties as she wishes to attend.'
Amanda frowned and they walked along in silence. She hadn't meant to tell him she loved him. It was much too forward of her, and she'd intended to say like, not love. When he'd assumed she was referring to Fanny she hadn't known whether to be relieved or frustrated. After her talk with Fanny, when her friend had said most of the men she met and danced with would not think of her as a possible wife because of her background, she had realised that the same difficulty applied to her. No man in Gerard's situation would even consider an alliance with the granddaughter of an Earl. It would be considered far too presumptuous if he made her an offer. Occasionally a girl with her social background might be wed to a man from a lower strata, even a merchant or an industrialist, but usually only when the man was very wealthy and the girl had nothing but her birth to offer. Aunt Charlotte was unusual in that she had money when she wed Uncle Jethro, but she had been one and twenty, and her own mistress, not needing her father's permission and defying her family. Amanda was only eighteen, and while she would need Lucien's permission, since he was her guardian as well as her brother, she was not at all certain he would give it, even though he had known Gerard years before at Oxford and appeared to like him. She could not endure waiting for three whole years! And Gerard was so attractive he might marry someone else, from his own rank of society, long before then. She'd seen how girls eyed him at parties. They might not, when they knew he was a Cit, consider him as a husband, but there would be hundreds of girls from the merchant classes who would.
Amanda was so concerned she realised she was clutching Gerard's arm tightly. She relaxed her grip, and told herself she would have to devise some plan. He had been speaking, and she had not heard a word, so deep had she been in her own thoughts.
'I'm sorry, what did you say?'
'I asked whether your cousin John met Fanny often, when I cannot be with her.'
'We sometimes see him in the Park, but don't be concerned, we never leave her alone with him.'
'I expect she has told you about his behaviour on the boat?'
'Yes, and I think he is despicable! To pursue a girl who has made it clear she does not want his attentions is not the action of a gentleman. John is not a gentleman. India has spoilt him.'
'Has India spoilt me?'
He was laughing at her again, and she felt herself flushing.
'Of course not. You are far more of a gentleman than John is!'
'Even though I am a Cit? Come we ought to be going back.'
*
Silas was feeling frustrated. Fanny was never left alone. That suspicious brother and his own cousins never left her side. Perhaps, after the fireworks, they might stroll about the gardens again. When one of his companions challenged him to a game of dice he accepted, and while the rest of his party enjoyed the salads and chicken and the famous thinly sliced ham, he and Potter sat apart, throwing the dice. After a while Silas became suspicious, and picking up the dice examined them minutely.
'These are loaded!' he said. 'That's why you seem to know what to call! You've been winning all night.'
Potter sneered at him.
'What is it, you don't like losing, my lord? Is it beneath your dignity?'
Silas put his hands beneath the small table where they were sitting and suddenly heaved it up so that Potter was thrown to the floor. The man shouted angrily and struggled to his feet. Silas grinned at him, then had to move swiftly as Potter charged towards him, fists flailing. There was too little room for manoeuvre in the booth, and Silas, who accounted himself no mean pugilist, soon found himself desperately trying to evade punches that had a great deal of power behind them.
The other occupants of the booth had scattered, the women screeching in alarm, the men braying encouragement. Chairs and tables, with the remains of supper, fell to the floor, and while Silas was able to move away from the side of the booth where Potter had trapped him, into the centre, he slipped on some of the food and then fell back over a fallen chair. Potter did not wait for him to get back on his feet, but stood over him, kicking and punching until Silas begged him to stop.
'Take it back! Apologise! From all I hear of you, you're the one more likely to be cheating! You always win at cards, and you go to some notorious hells!'
Silas muttered something, and Potter's friends dragged him away. The party, laughing loudly, departed, all but one woman who stepped back into the booth and knelt beside Silas.
'Come on, my dearie, my room's not far away, I can help you clean up there, and you'll soon feel better.'
He struggled to his feet, wincing. As he permitted the woman to help him he glanced round at the other booths, for the first time realising other people, as well as those in his own party, had witnessed his humiliation. He saw Fanny, her eyes big with astonishment, and her brother looking scornful. His cousin Lucien was frowning, and Amanda was laughing. He'd pay them back! And as for Potter, not only had he cheated with the loaded dice, he'd somehow managed to cheat him in the fight. He would have to be punished, too, and he'd soon think of a suitable revenge.
*
Lucien was finishing breakfast the following morning when Sir Douglas Frome was announced.
'Bring him in,' Lucien ordered, and offered Douglas coffee.
Douglas took it and sat down opposite Lucien. He was looking unusually serious, and began to nibble on a piece of toast.
'Well, man, what brings you here so early?'
'Last night,' Douglas said. 'I was talking to a friend who happened to be in the next booth to them, after that deplorable affair, and he told me there are suspicions your cousin John goes to one of the new gambling clubs in Pall Mall, one that no decent fellow will consider going to. They encourage young idiots new to town, and it's believed your cousin introduces them. He finds them at cocking matches and the like, the sort of places young chubs think it clever to attend.'
'Is John accused of cheating them?'
Lucien was not really surprised. He had been old enough to understand something of why John has been hustled out of the country twenty years ago, and he did not think leopards changed their spots. It was only time before some other scandal hit him. He hoped only that it would not affect him or Amanda, as his relatives.
'That I don't know.'
'What was that row about last night? Did you hear?'
'My friend did. John apparently accused the other fellow, he thinks the name is Potter, and he also goes to this new club, of using loaded dice.'
Lucien couldn't help laughing.
'The biter bit! No doubt he objected both to being the target of a cheat, and not doing it himself. I wonder if in actual fact both sets of dice were loaded, but Potter had the edge?'
'I felt you ought to know.'
'Thanks, but I'm not sure what I can do about it. The man's older than I am, he's ostensibly the head of the family.'
'According to Jane he's trying to fix his interest with young Fanny Holbeck. He tried to offer for her when they were on the ship coming home. She may be a Cit, but she has a substantial fortune, which I understand he needs, and she's a pretty lass. And your sister is her closest friend. Jane said she would warn her, but a warning from Amanda might carry more weight. Will you ask her to speak to Fanny?'
'Yes, and I'll speak to her brother. But from what Amanda has told me Fanny can't abide John.'
'Her mother might force her to accept an offer.'
'Oh come, Fanny is not likely to bow down to that!'
'You can never tell with females. And we can't know what pressures that Holbeck woman might apply. I like little Fanny, and w
ouldn't wish your cousin onto her. By the way, that woman he went off with afterwards, she's notorious. Keeps a bawdy house in Lambeth.'
'Typical of my dear cousin!'
Lucien sat for some time after Douglas left, wondering what it was best to do. Amanda had said she and Fanny meant to walk in the Park that morning. He would join them, and try to decide whether his feelings for Fanny were strong enough for him to face the surprise of his family and friends if he were to marry a girl from a merchant family. He had been considering it ever since he had met her, but prudence had told him to wait. Was it time to cast prudence overboard?
*
Silas, frustrated in his attempt to detach Fanny from her friends at Vauxhall, decided the Park was now his best opportunity. He would hire a curricle or phaeton, and when he saw them offer his cousin Amanda a ride. Then, when he offered to take Fanny up, she could hardly refuse him. They would be walking there this morning, he thought, so he donned a new pair of hessians and a flowered waistcoat which, his tailor had assured him, was all the crack. He went to the livery stables where he had left the horse on which he had ridden to London. He would drive out early so as not to miss them. The stables were able to provide him with a curricle and a pair of high-stepping greys, but when they offered to send a groom with him he refused. He did not want anyone listening to him when he was talking to Fanny.
It was not far to the Stanhope gate, but the horses were fresh and frisky, taking exception to a stage coach, attempting to bolt, and when Silas managed to bring them back under control they shied at the sight of a chimney sweep. A lumbering waggon next caught their attention, but by then they were almost at the gate and Silas was able to turn them into the Park without causing a disaster.
He breathed a sigh of relief. In the quieter surroundings they would settle down. Really, the stables should not have sent them out before having taken off their first freshness.
He urged them to a trot, but one of the horses seemed to take the signal as one to canter, and set off smartly. His companion took a while to understand, and the curricle rocked dangerously as they pulled with differing paces. Then the second understood, and within seconds they were cantering along, pulling at the bits and in danger of breaking into an uncontrolled gallop.
Fortunately there were not many people or vehicles in the Park so early in the morning, but several carriages had to take evasive action, and Silas caught a glimpse of one lady, hastening to get out of the way, stumbling on the path. He swore at the horses and pulled on the reins, but it was some time before they slowed and he was eventually able to bring them to a ragged halt.
He wiped the sweat from his brow, and realised he had lost his hat. Tentatively he flicked the reins and the horses walked on. They seemed to have worked off their early exuberance, and he began to hope he would be able to control them while he took the ladies for their drive. Now to find them. He managed, with some difficulty, to turn the curricle and face back the way they had come. He remembered he had not previously driven a pair, and cursed himself for being over-confident of his ability. At least the horses were now walking, unsteadily and at different speeds so that he had to try and separate the reins and slow the faster one.
He was just congratulating himself on managing to bring them together when he spotted his hat at the side of the path. A small group of ladies and gentlemen were approaching, and he contrived to halt the pair.
'Sirs, can I ask you to pass me the hat?' he asked. 'It – er – blew off earlier.'
'Blew off? There's no wind,' one of the men said making no attempt to pick up the hat.
'It was you driving so dangerously, we were in fear for our lives!' one of the ladies said, moving further away.
'You are mistaken. Please, sir, my hat. As you see I have no tiger with me today, I cannot leave the horses.'
One of the men picked up the hat and tossed it up to Silas. He stretched out to catch it, and the horses took it as a sign to trot on. Cursing, Silas managed to retrieve the reins which he had dropped, and bring the pair to a walk once more. He was able to scan the people walking beside the carriage ride, and smiled when he caught sight of Fanny, wearing a dark green pelisse and matching bonnet trimmed with pale yellow flowers. Then he realised Lucien was with the girls. Why the devil did the man have to escort them on this of all mornings?
He halted beside them, congratulating himself on managing to bring his pair to a stand without one of them jibbing, and raised his hat.
'Cousins! Well met. And Miss Holbeck. Would one of you ladies care to take a turn round the Park with me?'
Amanda giggled and twirled her parasol.
'Thank you, I've no wish to be thrown out when your horses take charge,' Amanda said. 'Even I could manage a pair better than you do.'
He flushed but contrived to hide his chagrin under a condescending laugh. This cousin of his was far too pert.
'Then come and drive them,' he suggested.
She laughed. 'No, thank you. I prefer to trust my own feet.'
Lucien nodded a brief goodbye, and they turned away. Silas, fuming, had no option but to make his way back to the stables where he angrily refused to pay the charges, saying they had no right to send untrained, half wild animals out with clients. When the indignant owner said that in lieu of payment he had no option but to sell the horse Silas had stabled with him, Silas had to produce his purse. Then he removed his own horse, saying he would find a more honest place for him.
*
CHAPTER 8
Jane's wedding was over. Barbara was returning to her country home, and Amanda felt flat. She did not enjoy the Almack's Assemblies so much, even though the Patronesses had given her permission to waltz. Gerard was not there to hold her in his arms. Instead the man most likely to request her hand for the waltz was Sir Martin Carruthers. He was, it seemed, determined to forget the unfortunate manner in which his offer had been interrupted, and she was beginning to find his persistent compliments and invitations to drive with him annoying. Her cousin John had asked her to waltz on three evenings, and when she made some excuse had given her an inimical look which for some reason frightened her. Between the pair of them she felt beleaguered. When she refused either of them if they asked her to dance she could not accept anyone else, and had to sit out, fuming, with the girls who had not yet been given permission to waltz. It felt humiliating.
Lucien usually accompanied her and Fanny on their walks in the Park, and when for any reason he was unable to join them, or when they went shopping or to change library books, in fact anywhere they walked instead of riding in a carriage, Edgar, their biggest footman, was ordered to attend them. It made her uneasy. She declined all invitations from Sir Martin to drive with him, and when a man she had not known previously, Sir Humphrey Smithers, who attended Almack's Assemblies regularly, paid her lavish attentions she became uncharacteristically nervous. He was an older man too, a widower she had been told, with several children he had left in his country house.
'Are you tired, my love?' Aunt Charlotte asked. 'It has been a busy two months and you have not been used to so many late nights.'
'I'm not tired,' Amanda said. 'I don't know why I feel as though something dreadful is going to happen.'
Lady Charlotte laughed.
'My dear, you have no Scottish blood, so you cannot claim second sight! I received another application from a would-be suitor this morning. What shall I tell Sir Peter Lee?'
'Sir Peter Lee? Oh no! He's as old as John, a widower, and besides, I don't like him! And I've no wish to be a mother to a brood of his children, which is what he told me he is looking for. '
'He will be the fourth man to offer for you, my dear, and you have disliked all of them. Not that I blame you, They are either too old or callow youths.'
And the man I want to offer for me will not, Amanda thought. She had discussed with Fanny the problems of a marriage between the families of merchants and those of aristocrats. Fanny had been thinking of her own chances, but had said that if a girl h
ad a large enough fortune, and the man were not from the highest ranks, it sometimes happened.
'Mama knows of two such marriages,' she said. 'She keeps talking about your cousin John, but he is an Earl, he is not likely to offer for me, and even if he did I would not accept. Gerard would support me. I'm afraid Mama will be disappointed, since no one else has offered. She is talking now of finding me a husband from amongst Gerard's City acquaintances.'
'Does your brother agree?'
'I don't know. He was in favour of my having a Season, but lately he has been talking as though it was not a sensible idea. He has been bringing some of his friends home, and I suspect he hopes I will like one of them if they offer for me. Maybe it will change when I have my ball.'
Amanda was thoughtful. It was, she judged, easier for a wealthy girl from a merchant family to be accepted into Society than it would be for a man. It was a problem she needed to resolve.
'What about Gerard himself? Has he found a girl he likes amongst his City acquaintances?'
'He doesn't say so, but when he is not obliged to escort me to parties I think he visits some of his City friends, and I know they have sisters.'
As she walked home, accompanied by her maid Megan and followed by Edgar, Amanda was thinking hard. It was clear to her that Gerard, with these opinions, would never make her an offer. What could she do, before she lost him to some merchant's daughter?
*
Silas and Sir Humphrey were sitting at a small table in the gambling club in Pall Mall, and though a pack of cards lay on the table they were not playing.
'It was too soon,' Sir Humphrey said. 'I have not had enough time to gain her interest.'
'There isn't time to waste,' Silas said. 'Before we know it she'll have accepted some other offer.'
'Why don't you have a stab at her yourself?'
'Her brother does not like me. He's jealous of the title, and my house in Shropshire, the Priory. He'd refuse me out of spite. Besides, I have another bird in mind and she's richer than my cousin. But they guard her so well I can never find her alone. She has even been told to refuse to dance with me.'
Earl from India Page 9
