by Joan Smith
“You must be sure to tell your father this was your idea. We had no notion you were with us,” I pointed out firmly.
“But it was your idea, Miss Robsjohn. You invited me.”
She smiled blandly, and I, with great effort, suppressed the urge to box her noble ears.
Chapter Two
Mrs. Irvine got her second meal after all. We retired to a private parlor to discuss what we should do, and as we were entertaining a noble lady, I asked for wine. Mrs. Irvine requested sandwiches to accompany it, and Lady Victoria thought she could eat a few macaroons and perhaps a cream bun.
“We must get you back before your father misses you,” I said firmly to Lady Victoria. After insisting on the macaroons, she didn’t touch them but ploughed into the cream bun as if it were manna from heaven.
“He won’t miss me till morning.”
“I shall ask the inn to rent me a fresh team and take her back at once. I suppose we could not send her alone.” I spoke aside to Mrs. Irvine. “I must own, I do not relish the prospect of meeting Lord Marndale again.”
“We cannot send a young lady pelting about the countryside without a chaperone at night. He’d never see a hair of her head. She’d head straight for London. You’ll have to go with her, Jennie.”
“Bother! We will have to go with her.”
“Lord, my poor bones cannot take anymore shaking this night. What do you say we send him a note and tell him he may collect her here?”
I had developed a menial attitude from my working past. I was happy Mrs. Irvine alerted me to it. “Perfect! Why should we have the bother of the trip, when he is the one who let her escape? I’ll ask for paper and write the note at once for John Groom to deliver.”
I rang the bell and wrote the note. There was no cringing or grovelling in it. I said brusquely that Lady Victoria had concealed herself in my carriage without my knowledge or consent, and gave directions for him to pick her up. The instant it was done I sent it off, asking my driver to hire a mount and go on horseback to save time.
“Less than half an hour to get the note to Lord Marndale, and an hour for him to reach us,” I said. “We may as well wait here. We don’t want to be in our nightgowns when he comes.”
That left ninety minutes, more or less, to discover what we could of our runaway. We put the time to good use.
“Your mama is at Wycherly Park, is she?” I asked.
“Mama died when I was born,” Lady Victoria said, looking up from her cream bun with a long face. A daub of cream on her chin quite ruined her pose. She wished to give herself the airs of an abandoned orphan, when she had obviously been raised in the very lap of luxury.
“Lord Marndale scarcely looks old enough to be your father,” Mrs. Irvine mentioned.
“He married my mother when she was seventeen and he, nineteen. They were childhood sweethearts, living right next door. He has never remarried.”
“That’s a long time to be without a woman. I expect he has lady friends?” I need scarcely identify the speaker as Mrs. Irvine.
“Oh, yes. Many ladies throw their hankies at him, but he is interested in politics now. He spends a deal of time in London. Perhaps he has a mistress there. At least he never wants me to go with him, though I shall next year to make my debut. Could I have another cream bun, Miss Robsjohn, please?”
I rang the bell and ordered another cream bun and tea. Eating was better than drinking an excess of wine. I didn’t want her bosky when her father came for her.
“Did you attend a ladies’ seminary, Lady Victoria?” I asked, to pass the time.
“No, I had a governess. Miss Clancy married a neighboring tutor last month, which is why I was visiting Aunt Clara in Salisbury till Papa could come home. To Wycherly Park, I mean. He has been in London. I was supposed to remain with Aunt Clara till August, when we were to go to Brighton.” She added in a pouting way, “I don’t see why we cannot go now if he won’t let me go to London.”
“And why did you leave your Aunt Clara early?” Mrs. Irvine inquired. Her coy look suggested sexual carrying-on.
Lady Victoria hunched her elegant shoulders. “I expect it was because of Mr. Borsini, the Italian singing instructor. As if I would have run off with him! We were only sitting in the conservatory while he helped me with my Italian grammar lessons.”
I began to feel a twinge of pity for Lord Marndale. “There is something to be said for sending ladies to a seminary,” I told her, and outlined my own past career.
“Good gracious, you mean you’re a teacher!” she exclaimed, studying my toilette. “I took you for a lady.”
“I am a lady!” I replied, high on my dignity.
I glanced in the mirror over the grate to reassure myself on that score. Certainly I looked every inch the lady in my new finery, acquired since coming into my inheritance. How thrilled I had been to discard my ugly round bonnets and severe dark gowns. I now wore what was the highest kick of fashion in Bath society, but Lady Victoria’s toilette put me in the shade. For travelling my outfit consisted of a dark green worsted suit with a fichu of Belgian lace at the neck. My figure was more athletic than feminine, but with, of course, some indication between the neck and knees that I was a woman. I have a noticeable waist is what I mean, with some fullness above it. My travelling bonnet was plain but worn with a dashing tilt over the eye.
I removed the bonnet for greater comfort and because my hair is my crowning glory. It is a true Titian red and gives a clue to my short temper, which made me such a successful purveyor of knowledge to youngsters. They did not trifle with Miss Robsjohn. Since I am no longer required to be a dragon, however, I am endeavoring to sweeten my astringent disposition. I smiled at the reflection in the mirror.
Mr. Vivaldi, Bath’s reigning coiffeur, had achieved a splendid do for me. How happy I was to have that eternal knob lobbed off and let my natural curl have its way. I wear my hair short and saucy, because, quite frankly, it removes a few of my seven and twenty years. Dare I try to pass myself off as twenty-four? There is something so terribly irrevocable about being past the quarter-century mark! Yes, I would be twenty-four when I reached London, which would require a clever memory not to mention I had been teaching for six years. Three years, I would say. My eyes would not give me away in any case. They are green; not so lustrous as Lady Victoria’s, but no crow’s-feet have left their calling card at the corners.
My nose is severely straight, with no entrancing tilt at the end like my guest’s. My jaw is firm, but at least my teeth are in good repair. I would never play the ingénue again, but I would not be a spinster either, nor one notch below a perfect lady. I caught Mrs. Irvine’s eagle eye watching me admiring myself and turned back to the company.
“You are on your way to Wycherly Park with your father now, are you, Lady Victoria?” You must not think I was in the least intimidated by her title! I dealt with any number of noble girls at the seminary, which meant some rubbing of shoulders with their parents as well. One young lady was under the guardianship of her bachelor brother, Lord Anselm. I do not say he made a point of attending every open day for the sole purpose of seeing me, but he did hint on a few occasions that he enjoyed our meetings.
“Only until he can find someone else to look after me. Aunt Clara warned Cousin Eugenia that I would be too much for her, so I expect it will be another governess. No, companion,” she said. “I am too old for a governess.”
Why could a position like this not have come along when I had to work for a living? I used to scan the papers daily for some such sinecure. But it was academic now. “Perhaps I could put you on to someone,” I said, mentally fingering Miss Hopkins for the post. She was my greatest friend amongst the teaching staff at the seminary. A genteel-born, penniless lady like myself. I doubted she would have the fortitude to handle Lady Victoria, however. Especially if a continental teaching master formed any part of the household.
I inquired about this and was told that Lady Victoria was finished with all instruction. Borsini wa
s her Aunt Clara’s idea. I would mention Lydia Hopkins to Lord Marndale. It would be pleasant to share my new happiness with an old friend, and I would keep in touch with Lady Victoria’s progress through Lydia. I had a feeling that Lady Victoria’s future would provide interesting reading.
My guest took exactly one bite of the second cream bun, heedless of the cost, which would be put on my bill. “I’m tired. I would like to go to bed now,” she announced.
“Your father should be here inside of an hour,” I pointed out. “It is not worthwhile getting undressed.”
“But it’s nearly eleven o’clock. I go to bed at ten.”
“Lie down on the settee,” I suggested. “I’ll get a bolster for you.”
“I cannot sleep on that!”
Given the choice of sitting on a hard chair or resting on the settee, she soon chose the latter. She occupied the entire couch, making it necessary for Mrs. Irvine and myself to use the hard chairs. Before long the girl was sleeping. I got a blanket to put over her, and Mrs. Irvine and I talked for as long as we could keep our eyes open. At midnight our driver tapped at the door. He had left my note for Lord Marndale but had not spoken to him.
“Why did you not request a meeting?” I demanded, shocked at such a desultory attitude. Mrs. Irvine had procured our driver for us. I knew nothing about the man, except that he seemed a good-enough whip for someone who had spent his adult years aboard a ship.
“You said deliver the note. I delivered it.”
“You did not deliver it to Lord Marndale.”
“He was aboard. The lad at the desk said he would see that his lordship got it. Never worry your head about it, missie. He’ll be here before you’re ready to cast off.”
Mrs. Irvine began yawning into her fist and suggested we “hit our bunks.”
“Lord Marndale will be here any moment. He would have a fast team,” I countered.
At twelve-thirty she suggested it again. I was angry enough to consider it, but surely he could not be much longer. At one o’clock I agreed. Obviously something had gone amiss. Lord Marndale must have stepped out to visit friends, or was in a drunken stupor for all I knew. I left a message for him at the desk, explaining where he could find his daughter. We woke Lady Victoria, and all three of us went up to the single room I had hired. The inn provided us a truckle bed for our guest.
I lent Lady Victoria my best lawn nightie, which she took without even saying thank you. Then she just stood there like a statue, waiting for me to undress her.
“Be sure you hang up your gown,” I said, and undressed myself.
She gave me a sulky look but managed to get out of her gown and into the nightie and even hung up her clothes. Her next imposition was to hop into my bed.
“I shouldn’t think the three of us will fit in there,” I said. “The truckle bed is for you, Lady Victoria.”
“But I can’t sleep in that rickety little thing,” she laughed.
“It will be better than the floor, don’t you think?” I assisted her out of my bed and nodded to Mrs. Irvine to hop in against the wall. I took the other place and watched with amusement while Lady Victoria examined the truckle bed. She walked around it three times, like a dog around his blanket, then climbed in.
“It’s lumpy,” she complained.
“You will want to remember all these inconveniences before you run away again,” I told her.
“You’re right. You are a lady,” was the last phrase she spoke.
I pondered her meaning for all of five minutes before my mind wandered off to more interesting matters. What could be delaying Lord Marndale? What never entered my mind was that he had called out the constable and sent a crew out scouring the roads for us. The first intimation of that delightful surprise occurred at three o’clock in the morning, when I was awakened by a loud pounding at the door.
Chapter Three
I leapt from the bed in terror and lit the taper, calling “Who is it?” In my dazed state I envisaged a blackguard with pistol and knife ready to rob and kill me. The pounding drowned out my voice. The next thing I knew fists gave way to a battering ram, and someone began hammering the door down with a piece of heavy furniture. Surely a thief in the night would not be so brazen! I spotted Victoria on the truckle bed and knew my caller was no thief. Worse, it was Lord Marndale.
After three or four assaults the door remained intact, but the lock gave way. Lord Marndale was accompanied by a veritable army of minions, some in livery, some in fustian, and one wearing a constable’s hat. His lordship’s temper was hot enough to burn the shell off an egg. His hair fell over his forehead, perspiration dripped from his brow, and the stuffing from the chair he was using as a battering ram left a film of brown dust on his evening suit. The elegant marquess looked for the world as if he had robbed a scarecrow of his jacket. He dropped the chair with a loud thump and pointed a finger at me. “Arrest that woman, officer. She has abducted my daughter.”
The foolish constable came blundering forward, stumbling over the chair at the doorway, and took hold of my arm. The racket had roused the other patrons, who stuck their heads from their various doors. Men in nightcaps, ladies with their hair in rags, and one gleaming bald scalp popped out like cuckoos from a row of clocks, all goggling at my room. The scene was too ludicrous to inspire terror. “Get out, oaf!” I said, and shook the constable off. “I wouldn’t kidnap that bold chit for all the money in the mint.”
Mrs. Irvine and Lady Victoria were awakened by the commotion and joined their shrieks to the general melee. My lungs, strengthened from long holding forth in the classroom, could be heard above the hubbub. I turned a fiery eye on Lord Marndale. “It is about time you got here, sir.”
He ignored me and rushed to the truckle bed to draw his daughter into his arms. I heard tender outpourings, asking the hussy if she was all right and if we had harmed her. My temper was up at his attitude, and I went after him. “Harmed her?” I demanded.
To escape her papa’s wrath, or perhaps just from a love of attention, she burst into tears. “It was horrid,” she gasped. “And only look where she is making me sleep, Papa, in this horrid cot.”
“This is outrageous!” Lord Marndale exclaimed, rising to turn on me like a virago.
“Indeed it is, sir. It is outrageous that your daughter hid herself in my carriage and has battened herself on me quite shamelessly, causing me no end of bother and expense. I have sat up half the night waiting for you to come and retrieve her, to say nothing of her ordering expensive food which she did not eat. If you think for one moment I was about to be put out of my bed as well, you have another think coming.”
Lord Marndale looked quite stupefied, whether at my tone or the fact that I stood before him and his army in nothing but a nightgown, I do not know. I realized by his raking gaze at that point that I was undressed and grabbed my new silk dressing gown about me. It is a charming peacock blue color, with a long fringed sash and notched lapels, like a gentleman’s jacket.
“Get this rabble out of here at once. At once, I say,” I commanded, head high, eyes flashing.
Lord Marndale became aware of the rest of the audience and turned to the constable. “Thank you, officer. I can handle it from here.”
“Will you be wanting manacles and a cell, milord?” the constable asked, subjecting me to a close examination.
“Don’t be an ass,” I said, shoving him out the door.
“A chair and a whip, perhaps ...” Lord Marndale murmured, regarding me warily.
I slammed the door, thus lowering the curtain on the night’s entertainment for the audience.
Lord Marndale looked surprised though not greatly so. “Now perhaps you will do me the honor of explaining what you are doing with my daughter, madam, after I explicitly told you to mind your own business,” he said loftily.
“That is precisely what I am trying to do. I did not abduct her, and I would thank you to tell your constable so. She concealed herself in my carriage. I didn’t know she was there till
we had nearly reached Farnborough.”
“At what time was that?”
“After ten.”
“Then you have had ample time to return her.”
“Yes, sir, I had the time but not the inclination to subject my elderly companion to further jostling after dark.” Mrs. Irvine sniffed at being called elderly, but she sniffed in Lord Marndale’s direction. “I sent a note off to you at once. I have been waiting to hear from you for hours.”
“I wasn’t at the inn. As soon as I discovered Victoria was missing, I raised the alarm and went out looking for her.”
“Then it is strange you did not find her, as you knew I was en route to London and apparently had fingered me as the culprit.”
“I discovered you were from Bath. They mentioned it at the inn. I thought London was dust in my eyes.”
I gave an incredulous snort. “Surely dust in the eyes of a blind man is redundant.”
“What was I to think?” he demanded in a loud voice. He lowered a slash of black eyebrows into a scowl, to try to intimidate me. “You had been trying to lure her away. Are you abbesses so short of girls you have taken to scouring the countryside for innocent maidens?”
I was not aware at the time of the slanderous meaning of the term “abbess,” but Mrs. Irvine, of course, was privy to it and called him to account. “Now see here, you jackdaw, who are you calling brothel keepers?” she demanded. “I’ll have you know Jennie is a school mistress, and I am a decent widow. It’s a rake like yourself who knows all about abbesses.”
“Then why were you trying to lure Victoria away at the inn?”
“That was a misunderstanding,” I rushed in. “Your daughter will tell you....”
The minx let her lower lip tremble. “It was partly my fault, Papa,” she said. “They didn’t beat me.” I could only stare at her lukewarm commendation.
