by Anne Herries
‘Do they? Is there truly no other life for a woman, Mama? I have sometimes thought it unfair that we are not allowed to live as men do…’ She saw her mother’s shocked expression. ‘Well, not quite in the way some gentlemen do—but at liberty to please ourselves. Why can we not be lawyers or doctors or some such thing? Why must we limit our expectations to being wives and mothers?’
‘Caroline, you are ridiculous,’ her mother cried, looking distressed. ‘No wonder your aunt complains of you. She says that you might have been engaged by now had you made a push.’
‘Mama, it is barely three weeks since we came up,’ Caroline said. ‘Surely you would not wish me to rush into some misalliance without consideration?’
‘No, of course not,’ Mrs Holbrook said. ‘I did tell Louisa that I thought it too soon, but she says you will ruin your chances by being too proud—and by speaking too freely. I hope your aunt has no real cause for her fears, Caroline? You have been much indulged at home, but you must understand that you should be careful what you say in society, my dear.’
Caroline felt a pang of remorse as she saw her mother’s anxious face. What would her aunt—or her mother—think if they knew of the arrangement she had made with Sir Frederick? She knew that what she had agreed to was very shocking, but she had been driven by a wildness that now seemed very ill advised.
Perhaps it might be better if she allowed Sir Frederick to win his wager—and yet she would dislike having to do so, for she could imagine the mockery in his eyes if she did not go through with the dare.
‘Of course, Mama,’ she said. ‘And now if you will excuse me, I should like to change before nuncheon.’
* * *
‘Caroline,’ Tom accosted his sister as she came downstairs later that day. He looked her over, noting the town bronze she had acquired with approval. She had grown up quickly, and he liked what he saw. ‘You look well. Are you enjoying yourself more than you thought?’
‘Yes, it has been pleasant,’ Caroline told him truthfully. ‘I have made so many friends, Tom, and it would be altogether wonderful if…well, you know my aunt. I know I should not complain, for if it were not for her generosity I should not have had a Season at all.’
‘Well, I am not so certain of that, and I do know my aunt well enough,’ he said and smiled ruefully—he had already fallen foul of Lady Taunton’s tongue. ‘But the good news is that Grandfather says you are not to be forced into a marriage you cannot like. He will not have it, and he has charged me to make sure that it does not happen, which I should have done anyway. But now we have his blessing. And that means that you cannot be bullied into an alliance just because Aunt Louisa wishes it.’
‘That is exceedingly good of him,’ Caroline said. ‘I would not have thought he would wish to be bothered with such trivial matters.’
‘Truth is, we don’t know him as we ought,’ Tom said and frowned. ‘Mama sets his back up, because he thinks her too timid. I believe he blames her for Papa getting into debt the way he did. It is completely unfair, of course, but she irritates him and you know his temper. He has kept himself to himself for too long and now regrets it. If you knew him better, Caroline, I think you would like him.’
‘Oh, but I do like him,’ she said, surprising him. ‘He has always been perfectly pleasant to me—I think it is just Mama he does not care for, which is unkind in him. However, she is a little milk-mannered sometimes and that is what sets him by the teeth, you know. He likes it when you stand up to him, give him back a little of his own mustard.’
‘Yes, I see you do know him better than I thought,’ Tom said. ‘He has been a bit of a dark horse, though…secrets I had never guessed. Nor would have had he not told me himself.’
‘Do tell?’ Caroline begged, but her brother shook his head. ‘Oh, that is not fair. Why am I not to know—because I am a mere female, I suppose?’
‘No, certainly that is not the reason. I was told in confidence,’ Tom said, ‘and I may not break my word, Caroline. You would not expect me to?’
‘No, not if it was in confidence,’ she admitted with a sigh. ‘Are they very dreadful, Tom? Grandfather’s dark secrets?’
‘Some of them are surprising—but one is rather dreadful,’ her brother said. ‘At least, some people would find it shocking, though I thought…’ He shook his head. ‘No, I must not say, forgive me. I ought not to have mentioned it at all, but Grandfather has asked me to do something for him, and if I agree it means that I must go abroad for a while.’
‘Go abroad?’ Caroline was startled. ‘But whatever can you mean?’
‘It is just something our grandfather wishes to put right… an old wrong, as he called it.’ He laughed and shook his head. ‘No, I have told you enough and I shall say no more, tease how you choose. Tell me, where do you go this evening, and shall I be welcome, do you think?’
The conversation was successfully turned, though Caroline’s curiosity was merely deflected for a moment. She sensed that there was something very much on her brother’s mind, and she had no doubt that she would eventually prise it out of him.
* * *
Over the next few days Caroline attended several functions with her aunt and sometimes her brother, at which Sir Frederick was for some reason present. Her determination to accompany him to the prize fight had wavered on several occasions. However, each time she saw him, he asked her if she had changed her mind with a look in his eyes that immediately renewed her courage. She knew that he was expecting her to default and that was the very thing needed to be certain that she did not draw back.
* * *
On the Monday morning, her maid, Mary, brought a bundle to her room, which had been handed to her by Sir Frederick’s groom. Caroline had been obliged to take the girl into her confidence, and to give her a handsome shawl, which she had known Mary coveted. It was not the first time she had taken one of the servants into her confidence, and she had no reason to think that Mary would betray her. She had arranged that the girl would open a door at the back of the house and then lock it again, so that Caroline could escape through the mews, to where Sir Frederick would be waiting.
* * *
The ball that evening was a serious crush. Caroline was much in demand, dancing twice with Sir Freddie, and twice with Mr Bellingham, also once with her brother as well as many others. However, she took care to keep several of the dances after supper free, and complained frequently to her aunt of the heat, telling her when the clock struck eleven that she had the most dreadful headache and asking if her aunt would mind their leaving early.
‘You do look a bit flushed,’ Lady Taunton observed. ‘You have been racketing around town these past few days. It may be best if you have a lie in tomorrow, Caroline. We do not want you taking sickly.’
‘No, Aunt, I am sure I shall not—but I may sleep in if you think it sensible.’
Lady Taunton looked at her suspiciously, for it was not often that Caroline answered her so meekly. However, she put it down to her niece feeling unwell, and, having sent for the carriage, escorted her home an hour sooner than they would normally have left.
‘Do you wish for a tisane to help you sleep?’ she asked as they parted at the top of the stairs. ‘We do not want you taking sickly—that would blight your chances of making a good match.’
‘Thank you, but I am sure I shall sleep once I can put my head down.’
Caroline’s heart was racing wildly as she went up to her room. Her maid had hidden the youth’s clothing in a trunk, but Caroline took it out after locking her door, and tried it on. It fitted her remarkably well. She looked at herself in the mirror, twisting her hair up into a flat pleat that would not be seen beneath the cap, and pulling it tight over her head. She pinned it securely, for she did not want it to come down and betray her. Looking at herself in the mirror, she decided that she made an excellent youth. Anyone looking at her closely might think her features a little fine for a boy, but most people hardly glanced at a groom, and she thought she might get away wi
th it, providing she did not speak.
She decided to keep the clothes on, pulling a light cover over her as she lay down. She was afraid of sleeping late, though Mary had promised to wake her if she did.
In the eventuality, however, she was awake and ready when her maid came to her room with a tray bearing a pastry and a glass of milk.
‘I thought you might wish to eat something before you went, miss,’ she said. ‘If something is bothering you, a full stomach is better than an empty one.’
‘Thank you,’ Caroline said and took a bite of the pastry and two swallows of milk. ‘If anyone should inquire for me, I am sleeping in this morning.’
‘Yes, miss,’ Mary said, looking at her doubtfully. ‘Until later, when you’ve gone out driving with Sir Frederick—is that it?’
‘Yes, thank you.’ Caroline saw the concern in the girl’s eyes and pulled a wry face. ‘There is not the least need to look like that, Mary. It is just a lark—the same kind of thing as I used to get up to with my brother Nicolas.’
‘Begging your pardon, miss, but it ain’t the same.’
‘No, well, perhaps not,’ Caroline agreed. Her stomach was tying itself in knots and she had no idea why she had thought it such a capital notion in the first place. Had it not been for the challenge in Sir Frederick’s eyes each time she saw him, she would probably have withdrawn long before this. However, her pride had kept her courage high and even though she was feeling scared at this moment, she was determined to go through with it. After all, she reasoned uneasily, there was nothing so very terrible about going to a prize fight with a gentleman she knew well, was there?
She lifted her head and went out of the room, her maid hurrying after her. Mary unlocked the door for her and then Caroline reminded her to lock it again so that no one would guess that anyone had gone out early. Mary gave her an odd look as she slipped out, and it crossed her mind that the girl might be thinking she was going to meet a lover—which was so foolish it did not bear thinking of! As if she would do such a thing!
Once outside in the cool air of early morning, she hurried through the small garden, out of the gate and into the mews where the horses and carriages were kept. She saw immediately the curricle drawn up just outside the arch, and walked quickly towards it.
‘Mornin’, milord,’ she said in her best mimicry of a stable lad, which was amusing but would fool no one. ‘Was your lordship looking for assistance?’
Freddie looked at her, a gleam of appreciation in his eyes. She made a pretty youth, and he realised that if his friends saw her up beside him they would begin to wonder what he was up to, and his reputation might suffer a blow.
‘Good morning, imp,’ he said a trifle ruefully. ‘Take some dirt from the ground and smear your face a little. You look too clean and sweet for a stable lad.’
‘Oh, yes, I forgot,’ Caroline said and bent down to scoop up a little mud, smearing her face and neck, also her hands. ‘Is that better?’
‘A little,’ he agreed. ‘If we meet any of our acquaintances, keep your head down and do not speak, unless forced.’
‘No, milord,’ Caroline said.
‘Are you ready?’ Freddie said. She gave a slight nod of her head. ‘You are certain you wish to continue?’
‘Yes, quite certain.’ Caroline tossed her head, her eyes clear and bright as she gazed up at him. ‘I do not know why you are so concerned, sir. It is merely a lark, after all.’
Freddie frowned, for he suspected bravado. Indeed, until this moment he had thought that she would not show, and he was a little taken aback that she seemed so careless of her good name. Surely she must understand what the tabbies would make of it if it ever came out? But of course it was up to him to make sure that it did not!
‘Climb in, then,’ he said, making no attempt to help her. Unless she could manage it herself they were stumped. He saw that she made nothing of it, seeming as if she obeyed such orders every day of her life. ‘Well, then, we shall go—but if you find the sight of blood sickening you must tell me and we shall leave.’
‘Blood…’ Caroline had hardly thought about the fight until this moment. For her it had all been about adventure, the excitement of doing something she knew was forbidden. ‘Yes, well, I suppose there will be some.’
‘You may depend upon it,’ Freddie said and shot a glance at her. His expression was severe. Caroline, aware that he was expecting her to show some emotion, schooled her features to show none, lifting her chin. ‘But we need not stay long if you do not wish it.’
Caroline made no answer. In fact, neither she nor Freddie spoke much for the next hour or so as they made their way to the scene of the fight, which was on Hounslow Heath. It had been scarcely light when they set out, but by the time they had reached their destination the sun had begun to fight its way through the clouds.
* * *
Some forty-odd carriages had drawn up at convenient intervals about the spot where the fight would be held. Bare-knuckle fighting wasn’t exactly illegal, but it was frowned upon by many and usually took place in secluded locations at an hour when there was least likely to be any interference.
Looking about her, Caroline saw that the carriages belonged mostly to young men, though there were one or two older gentlemen of the sporting persuasion. There were, of course, no ladies of quality present, though she saw a couple of females who could in no way be called ladies. They were dressed in gaudy, revealing gowns and looked as if they might have been out all night, their cheeks painted with rouge. They were laughing loudly with the gentlemen who had brought them, and from their manner looked as if they might be intoxicated.
Caroline had not known what to expect, and she was a little shocked by such free manners, and by some of the language the gentlemen were using. It was the language of the stables, and though she had heard such cant before, somehow she was not prepared for it.
Besides the gentlemen’s carriages, there were wagons and men dressed in shabby clothes walking about, at their heels a pack of dogs, some of them hounds and lurchers, also a bull terrier or two with ferocious-looking mouths. The atmosphere was one of excitement and anticipation, and as her eyes travelled round the arena, she saw that men were placing bets and also buying tankards of ale from a stall that had set up some distance away from where they were stationed.
Freddie looked at her speculatively. ‘Well, lad, what do you think of it?’
‘It is strange,’ Caroline said. ‘Different…exciting, I think.’
‘Exciting?’ His smile mocked her. ‘A rough place for a lad like you. But it was what you wanted, though we can leave if you wish?’
It was on the tip of Caroline’s tongue to tell him that she had seen enough when a voice hailed him, and two gentlemen came over to speak to him. She was thankful that they seemed to have been drinking, and did not glance her way as they talked about the merits of the fight they had come to watch.
The two gentlemen, both of whom were known to Caroline, though only by sight and not by acquaintance, seemed in no hurry to move on. They were making wagers with each other, and drew Sir Frederick into it, asking him his opinion of the outcome.
‘I would lay my blunt on Mason,’ Freddie told them. ‘But I have not seen Gentleman George fight, so I may be mistaken.’
‘What will you wager on it?’ one of the gentlemen asked.
‘Oh, fifty guineas,’ Freddie said. ‘You may come to me at my club if you should win.’
‘Naturally,’ the gentleman replied, glancing briefly at Caroline. ‘What does the lad say? Who will win, lad?’
‘His name is…Sam,’ Freddie said, ‘and he has no opinion on the matter—do you, Sam?’
‘Come, come, let the lad speak for himself, Rathbone. Tell me, lad, what is your opinion?’
Caroline shook her head, keeping her eyes down, aware that she was being studied rather too intently. She averted her gaze. A short distance away she saw that two dogs were squaring up to each other, and in another moment they were at each othe
r’s throats, growling fiercely, their fangs bared as they entered a bloody conflict.
It was a horrid sight, and one that Caroline disliked very much, but it diverted attention from her, for instead of trying to separate them, their owners urged them to it and started to make bets on the outcome. The two gentlemen who had come up to Freddie walked off to watch and hazard their blunt in the betting. Freddie glanced at her, raising his brows.
‘Do you wish to leave?’
‘No, certainly not,’ Caroline said, though she had found the dogfight unpleasant, but it was over now and the pugilists were being announced to the crowd. ‘I am not so easily distressed, though I do not like to see dogs hurt.’
‘Nor I,’ Freddie agreed. ‘Men have a choice whether to fight or not. Animals are not so fortunate. Personally, I abhor such sports. Well, I dare say we may as well watch the fight since we are here.’ Caroline watched as the two men began to square up to each other, thinking that both looked very strong and well matched in size and weight. They began by circling each other, making occasional jabs at each other and ducking. Around them loud voices were raised, urging the men to close with each other and eventually the blows began to land with regularity.
At first Caroline was struck by the excitement and the science of the way the men ducked and weaved, and the skill it took to land a punch on their opponent. However, after some rounds, when they were both reeling from the effect of so many blows, she began to hope that it would soon be over. However, she said nothing, for she was not prepared to let Freddie think her a weakling after all. It was towards the end of the thirteenth round that he turned to look at her.
‘I believe I have seen enough. Mason will undoubtedly wear his opponent down,’ Freddie said. He began to back his horses and in a few moments they were leaving the Heath. He glanced at Caroline again, noticing her thoughtful expression. ‘You did not wish to stay for the end, did you?’ he asked after they had driven for a few minutes on the road.
