A Country Gentleman

by Ann Barker

  ‘Yes, I do,’ she replied. ‘And if you will not help me, I shall go alone.’

  ‘No you won’t,’ said Caroline. ‘We’ll come with you, won’t we, Timothy?’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ replied Ames without hesitation.

  ‘I’ll send for the carriage from the stables,’ said Lady Thurlby, getting up in order to ring the bell.

  ‘No need,’ said Riseholm, stepping between her and the bell-pull. ‘I have only driven over from Stamford. My carriage is ready and my team is fresh.’

  Before they left, Lady Thurlby said to Lavinia ‘I’ll tell Victor where you’ve gone.’

  ‘Good,’ said Lavinia, tying her bonnet ribbons with decision. She had forgotten briefly how angry she was with Lord Thurlby. Now she remembered. ‘You can tell him that I have run off with Lord Riseholm.’

  Lady Thurlby smiled mischievously as Riseholm’s horses pulled the carriage away from the front door and set off at a smart trot.

  Chapter Eighteen

  For Benjamin Twizzle, the discovery that Isobel had been conducting an illicit correspondence with Rake Riseholm had been a real piece of luck. The notion of blackmailing Isobel had struck him as being an excellent way of providing himself with the means of getting out of a tight situation.

  Isobel’s feelings on being exploited in this manner did not greatly concern him. He knew her to be an heiress with a comfortable if not a handsome fortune, and felt sure that she could easily spare something in order to solve his problems. Her protestations that she did not have any money to hand were seen by him to be flimsy excuses. Rich people could always manage to find money if they needed to do so.

  Isobel’s willingness to flirt with him had convinced him that she did not regard the business of the money with any degree of seriousness. He, too, was very willing to indulge in a flirtation but he never lost sight of the chief object of the exercise. This, of course, was to extract himself from the nightmare situation in which the threat of retribution in the person of Mr Nightshade always seemed to be around the corner.

  Just the night before Lord Thurlby returned home with his mother, something very alarming had happened; two of Mr Nightshade’s bully boys had actually caught up with Benjamin outside the Horseshoe. They had made it quite clear that their master’s patience was not inexhaustible and that he expected to be paid without delay. Just as things were starting to look gloomy, even to one of Mr Twizzle’s disposition, he had had the bright idea of mentioning his ‘betrothed’, the heiress.

  ‘Oh yes, and why didn’t you mention this heiress before, then?’ one of them had asked, nodding to the other who had pinned Benjamin up against the back wall of the inn. The man had released him suddenly, causing him almost to lose his footing.

  Twizzle had straightened his cuffs, trying not to show how his hands were shaking. ‘I didn’t want to drag her into all this,’ he had replied with a reasonable performance of carelessness. ‘Besides, if her family hear that I’m a gambler, the wedding’ll be off and then you’ll get nothing at all.’

  ‘Maybe so,’ the first man had said after a moment’s thought. The two men had held a low-voiced conversation, whilst keeping Benjamin well in their sights. ‘I’ll have to ask Mr Nightshade about this,’ the same man had said eventually. ‘Come here tomorrow evening at this time.’

  ‘And no double-crossing, or you’ll be the worse for it,’ the other had warned, before the two of them had swaggered away.

  After this unsettling encounter, Benjamin had therefore come to his meeting with Isobel at Thurlby Hall determined to get her to part with some money, or at least some jewellery.

  To his dismay, when he met her in the gardens that day, she seemed very disturbed and, more importantly, she had no money. ‘Nor will I have any more, so it is useless to expect it,’ she said, wringing her hands.

  ‘But you must have some jewels,’ he protested.

  ‘Well, I do not,’ she replied, not entirely truthfully. Most of her jewels, it was true, were in London in Mrs Wilbraham’s safe, that lady having refused to release them for fear that her charge would use them as a means to run off with some undesirable character. The only jewels she had with her were the pearls that had belonged to her mother. Not for anything would she reveal the existence of those.

  ‘Then in that case, I will have to disclose what I know,’ he replied, thinking of Mr Nightshade.

  ‘Oh, go on then,’ she said wretchedly. ‘Disclose what you like, and see if I care. Nobody could possibly think any worse of me than they do now, not even if I were to do something utterly outrageous, like eloping.’ She stopped speaking; then, as the words that she had said sunk in, she glanced at him sideways.

  ‘Oh no,’ he said backing away.

  ‘Yes,’ she replied, pursuing him. ‘Just think of the benefits.’

  ‘Which are…?’

  ‘I will be able to lay my hands on a great deal of money straight away,’ she answered. ‘It comes to me without conditions when I am twenty-one, or when I marry, whichever is the sooner.’

  ‘No conditions at all?’ he asked suspiciously. ‘You don’t even need anyone’s consent to inherit?’ On one previous occasion, he had come perilously close to getting married, only to find that the young lady in question would forfeit every penny of her estate if she married without her guardian’s approval.

  ‘Oh no,’ she assured him blithely, quite unaware whether or not this was the truth. ‘Just think; you will have all you need.’

  ‘Yes, perhaps I might,’ he answered, regarding her suspiciously. ‘But what’s in it for you?’

  ‘I should like to be a married lady,’ she answered with a toss of her head. ‘People can’t tell you off and bully you if you are married.’

  Benjamin Twizzle had not set out that day with the intention of eloping. With Nightshade on his heels, Lord Thurlby’s possible wrath to face, and no prospect of any money from any other source, it seemed that it might be the very thing. What was more, the idea of being in a position so that no one would bully him seemed to be very desirable at that moment. ‘By Jove, so they can’t,’ he murmured, his expression lightening. ‘But how to do the thing?’

  ‘I have an idea,’ she answered after a moment’s thought. ‘Meet me at the Horseshoe in an hour, and bespeak us a carriage and pair.’

  If Lord Thurlby did not feel any more cheerful after his ride, at least the first heat of his anger was gone, to be replaced by a kind of heart-sore weariness. For several years after the girl he had once loved had shown her true colours at Folkingham, he had kept his heart very tightly under wraps. If he were honest, that might have been in part why he had avoided London so determinedly. Others in his position, such as Lord Riseholm, for instance, would no doubt have cultivated the female sex in a cynical way, spreading heartbreak in return. Thurlby had remained on his estate, saving his affection for his mother, his friendship for a select group in the local area, and giving his time to the cultivation of his acres. He had always known that he must marry to continue the family line. Of the kind of woman that he might marry he had not thought a great deal, save that he must be content to think of her occupying his mother’s place.

  Remembering Lavinia’s disastrous visit several years before, he had been very suspicious of her, especially considering the unconventional nature of her arrival. Even while he still disapproved of her, however, he could not help observing how pretty and womanly she had become. As time went on, his respect for her had grown as he had seen her make a friend of an ordinary schoolmistress, and show kindness to an older spinster lady. He had taken pleasure in watching her becoming familiar with his dog, his home and his garden. He had gradually come to realize that his name and his title were of less importance than having her for his own, admitting to himself at last that he wanted her at Thurlby Hall on a permanent basis as his wife.

  He had escorted his mother home, full of hope, only to have it destroyed utterly by the discovery that Lavinia’s attachment to Riseholm continued. He had confro
nted her with this, and she had given him no explanation of her behaviour. Then he had seized her and kissed her in order to punish her.

  Furious with her and almost as furious with himself for his lack of restraint, he had thrust her aside and gone for a long ride. He knew that he must get right away from her, otherwise he would be in severe danger of saying or doing something that he might regret. Fool that he was, part of him actually wanted simply to throw himself at her feet and to tell her that he loved her anyway and that none of it mattered, because without her beside him as his countess, life would be dry and meaningless.

  As he returned his weary horse to its stable, he spoke a curt word of thanks to his groom – surprising the man by his unusual lack of courtesy – and walked slowly towards the house, his whole posture that of a man twenty years older. He looked around him without pleasure. It was the first time that he could ever remember viewing his home and its surroundings in such a way.

  It was only when he was actually standing with his hand on the handle of the side door, ready to go in, that it suddenly occurred to him that Lavinia would still be there. His heart gave a lurch. ‘Fool!’ he said out loud. ‘No doubt she’ll be off to be with Riseholm at the first opportunity.’ Then he remembered that she had consistently denied corresponding with his rakeship. On the other hand, the landlord, who had no reason to lie to him, had said that all the letters from Mrs Hedges had been for Riseholm, and all the letters that came for the same lady had been franked across the corner. It had been Lavinia who had masqueraded as Mrs Hedges.

  His expression hardened again, as he opened the door. Lilly, who had heard his approach long before anyone else, came clattering along the passage, her tail wagging furiously as she jumped up to greet the master who had been gone for so long. He bent to stroke her head and pull her silky ears. All at once, he remembered Lavinia petting the dog not long after her arrival. Lilly had taken to Lavinia at once. He frowned. He had always believed that dogs knew good from bad. Maybe in this, as in so many other things, he had been mistaken.

  He walked slowly to his study with Lilly at his heels. He was aware that first he ought to go upstairs and change his dress after his strenuous ride. The way he was feeling, however, he did not much care if he never changed his clothes ever again.

  Once inside with the door closed, he poured himself a large glass of brandy and walked over to the desk. There was a piece of paper folded on the blotter, with his name on it, clearly having been written in haste.

  Briefly, he hesitated. Was this from Lavinia? Had she gone to Riseholm’s arms, leaving him a note informing him in what utter contempt she held him? Telling himself that he was a clot to speculate when all he had to do was to open the paper and read its contents, he picked it up and unfolded it, staring at the words written there, clearly scrawled in haste.

  I O U £100. Sorry. Lavinia will explain.

  Isobel Macclesfield

  His hand went to the drawer where he always kept an amount of money to cover all ordinary occasions. The drawer was slightly opened, the lock forced, and a roll of notes had been taken. Isobel, he thought; it was Isobel. Suddenly, a lot of things began to become plain. Actions that had seemed utterly out of character when attributed to Lavinia became perfectly comprehensible when laid at Isobel’s door.

  Putting down his glass, still half full, he strode to the door, quite taking Lilly by surprise. The greyhound had settled down flat on her side on the hearth rug, and only just made it out of the door before her master closed it behind him.

  Without a thought for the propriety of his actions, he ran up the main staircase, two at a time, followed by Lilly, who thought this tremendous sport, headed straight for Lavinia’s room and knocked on the door, calling out her name at the same time.

  ‘She’s not there,’ said his mother, coming up behind him.

  Thurlby lost a little of his colour. ‘Not there?’ he said.

  She shook her head, sighing. ‘Oh Victor, you can be so pig-headed at times.’

  ‘You don’t mean that she’s gone; she’s left?’

  Deciding that he deserved to suffer a little for his rash assumptions, her ladyship said, ‘That is exactly what I do mean.’

  ‘Because of what I said?’ He demanded. ‘God, I wish I had cut out my tongue before—’

  ‘The number of times I have heard your father say the same,’ Lady Thurlby remarked. She paused, not wanting to tell an untruth. ‘Your words and your manner towards her gave her little reason to suppose that you would want her to stay,’ she said eventually.

  ‘No, I suppose not,’ he agreed. ‘But she has been less than candid with me.’

  ‘Some secrets are not ours to share,’ she reminded him. ‘You would surely not have had her betray a confidence.’

  He shook his head. ‘No more than I would do so myself.’ Then after a short silence, he said, ‘Anyone with an ounce of intelligence would have worked out that it was Isobel Macclesfield who was entangled with Riseholm and not Lavinia.’

  ‘Yes,’ his mother agreed. ‘Anyone who was not in love.’

  After a long silence, he said in subdued tones, ‘Mama, the things I said – did I make her cry?’

  Lady Thurlby had no intention of betraying her goddaughter over such a matter. ‘She said that she hoped you would fall off your horse and into a ditch,’ she replied.

  After another moment’s silence, he said, ‘I’m not just pig-headed, am I? I’m an unreasonable bully as well.’

  ‘Yes, you are, although I suppose that if you realize it at least there is some hope for you. That is, as long as you don’t add to your imperfections by being a laggard lover on top of everything. In fact, why are you standing talking to me instead of going after her?’

  ‘You know where she’s gone, then?’

  ‘I imagine she’s on her way to Gretna Green – with Lord Riseholm,’ his mother said placidly.

  ‘What?’ roared the earl. Lilly, who had a pronounced aversion to loud noises, immediately slunk behind her ladyship’s skirts and looked reproachfully at her master, her tail between her legs.

  ‘Now see what you have done,’ said the countess as she stroked the dog soothingly. ‘Poor Lilly is shaking.’

  ‘So am I,’ he answered, holding on to his temper with difficulty. ‘Explain, Mother, for the love of God.’

  ‘What would you do if I said that she had eloped with him?’ she asked him curiously.

  ‘Ride after them and kill the bastard, for by heaven he doesn’t deserve her,’ he answered fiercely.

  She smiled. ‘Lavinia hasn’t eloped with him,’ she said. ‘They have gone in pursuit of Isobel who has eloped with Benjamin Twizzle.’

  ‘Benjamin Twizzle? Good God, why?’ he exclaimed. ‘I thought she barely knew the man. Does the silly chit have any brains at all?’

  ‘Apparently he found out that she was corresponding with Riseholm. He threatened to tell you unless she gave him money.’

  ‘But why go to him rather than to me?’ he asked. He had begun his sentence in an indignant tone. By the end of it, his voice had slowed, and his face had turned a dull red.

  ‘I don’t suppose she dared,’ his mother said frankly. ‘She was afraid that you would send her back to London post haste.’

  ‘She was probably right,’ he agreed ruefully. ‘She needed the money to elope, of course.’

  ‘What money?’

  ‘She broke into my desk,’ he told her. ‘By God, though, who but Isobel Macclesfield would think to solve her problems by marrying her blackmailer?’

  ‘It is ingenious, you must admit,’ said Lady Thurlby. ‘But quite unsuitable. Benjamin Twizzle is a sadly unsteady young man, and in any case, Isobel is in love with Lord Riseholm.’

  ‘Who has gone off with Lavinia – my Lavinia – quite unchaperoned.’ Her ladyship thought about Miss Tasker and Mr Ames, but said nothing. ‘No matter that they are in pursuit of another couple, if it becomes known that Lavinia has been in company with his rakeship, her reputat
ion will be blasted beyond repair.’ He set off down the passage with hasty strides. ‘Don’t fear, Mama. I shall bring her back.’

  She smiled, holding Lilly’s collar to prevent her following her master. ‘I know you will, my son,’ she said. But she spoke to the empty air.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Twizzle eyed Isobel suspiciously as they got into the conveyance that he had ordered at her request. ‘If you had enough money to hire this carriage, why didn’t you have any to give me?’ he asked, frowning.

  Very unusually for her, Isobel blushed. ‘This is an emergency,’ she said. Following her conversation with Twizzle, she had scurried up to her room and had quickly thrust a few necessary provisions into a couple of band boxes.

  The next step had taken rather more fortitude. She had caught sight of Lord Thurlby clattering away from the house on horseback as if all the fiends in Hell were after him. Lavinia had run crying into the garden. Miss Wheatman was out, and she had heard Lady Thurlby’s abigail say that she was lying down on her bed, after her early morning start.

  Those facts established, she had cautiously made her way into Lord Thurlby’s study and had prepared to hunt in his desk for any money that might be there. The desk had been locked, with no key in sight, but a sturdy-looking dagger had been on display on the wall. She thought guiltily of how Lord Thurlby’s desk now sported a broken lock from where she had forced it. She had few scruples, but even she had felt uncomfortable about that. She was glad that she had not had very much time to think about what she was doing or her courage might have failed.

  She sighed. Her host could not possibly think worse of her than he already did, and in any case, once she was married, she would be able to give him back his money and even, if he were so mean as to demand it, to pay for the repair of the desk. What was more, with her out of the way, Lavinia would be able to tell Thurlby the truth and they would be reconciled. At least some good would come out of the situation. When she thought about the matter in that light, she was really doing them a favour.