by M C Beaton
“My dear,” he said to Frederica. “A word with you.”
Frederica approached him nervously. She did not like Sir Philip’s pale, calculating eyes or the way he doused himself in scent.
“Lady Fortescue and Colonel Sandhurst have been invited to Clarence House this evening by the Prince Regent. A great honour. Accordingly, I wish you to dress in your best and wait table with me in the dining-room this evening.”
Frederica did not want to work in the dining-room. While she was tucked away in the kitchens, she could forget about her circumstances. But on the other hand, she could hardly refuse. So she said, “Certainly, Sir Philip.”
“Good, good.” He rubbed his little hands.
He made his exit and left an uneasy atmosphere behind. “What is he up to, do you think?” asked Despard.
“What do you mean?” Frederica looked surprised. “It is my place to help out, particularly on such an evening.”
“That one always has some plot, some plan,” said the chef. “Why did he not ask Miss Tonks or Mr. Davy?”
“As to that”—Frederica’s face cleared—“he is jealous of Mr. Davy and bears a grudge against Miss Tonks because she favours Mr. Davy. I am the only one left.”
“If he is up to anything,” said Despard sourly, “I’ll take the cleaver to his head.”
***
The captain escorted his party into the Poor Relation Hotel, feeling uneasy. The only thing that reassured him was the thought that Frederica would have finished her duties for the day and would be in the apartment next door or up at the top of the hotel in the sitting-room. Every time he had dined at the hotel, Colonel Sandhurst, Sir Philip, and Lady Fortescue had been in attendance in the dining-room.
They were ushered to a table in the centre of the room. Lady Manners looked approvingly round at the white linen, the glittering silver, the striped wallpaper, and the heavy brocade curtains. “Very tasteful,” she said.
Then her eyes fastened on Frederica, who was standing next to the long sideboard. “Dear me,” she said acidly, “there’s that gel again, the one who was serving negus at the Darvers’ ball.”
The captain swung round. Frederica was looking nervous and ill at ease. “Yes,” he said coldly.
“Oh, the one you had the bad taste to try to introduce me to,” said Belinda loudly. She rapped his arm with her fan. “You are in need of improvement, Captain Manners. I fear the army has coarsened your behaviour sadly. But we have been discussing your future,” she went on archly, “and have hit on a solution.”
“That being?” asked the captain, trying with an effort not to turn around and look at Frederica again.
“Why, you must sell out,” said Belinda gaily.
The captain gave her a horrified look. “Not too bad an idea,” said Jack Warren quickly. “Thinking of doing the same thing myself.”
“Miss Devenham,” said the captain, who was almost glad that he had something to be angry about to take his mind off Frederica, “I will decide my own future and choose my own friends, now or at any other time.”
His voice was so cold, so acid, that an awkward silence fell on his party.
***
Mr. Davy found Miss Tonks in the upstairs sitting-room. He paused for a moment, looking at her and wondering why her eyes were flat and guarded. “Miss Tonks,” he said, “I think we have a problem.”
“Which is?” asked Miss Tonks, scrabbling feverishly in her work-basket for some mending to occupy her hands and eyes.
“Sir Philip has persuaded Miss Frederica to wait in the dining-room tonight, for as you know, Colonel Sandhurst and Lady Fortescue have gone to Clarence House.”
“So Frederica told me,” said Miss Tonks. “I did not think it a very good idea considering how the men ogled her at the duchess’s, but Sir Philip said the hotel dining-room was a different matter and he would be there to protect her.”
“As I came up here,” said Mr. Davy, “I saw Captain Manners arriving with what I take to be his fiancée along with two other ladies and a friend. They went into the dining-room. Sir Philip found me a few days ago in conversation with Captain Manners. I cannot help feeling he plans to punish the captain for having dared to speak to me. Also, it is evident from the way Captain Manners looks at our Frederica that he has perhaps formed a tendre for her. I would like to suggest we both descend immediately to the dining-room and send Miss Frederica away.”
“Gladly.” Miss Tonks got to her feet. “Would you be surprised, Mr. Davy,” she asked as they walked together down the stairs, “if it should prove that that invitation was a hoax?”
“Not in the slightest,” said Mr. Davy, sounding amused. “I am sure Sir Philip is capable of going to any lengths to get revenge.”
“So you start by taking these plates of soup over to Captain Manners’s table,” Sir Philip was saying just as Miss Tonks and Mr. Davy walked into the dining-room.
“Please leave, Frederica,” said Miss Tonks quietly. “We will take over.”
“What are you about?” hissed Sir Philip. “How dare you give orders in my dining-room?”
“Our dining-room,” muttered Miss Tonks, “or do you wish me to make a scene? Go, Frederica.”
Dismally Sir Philip watched the bright figure of Frederica quietly leaving the dining-room. He could not protest any further, for Lord Bewley, who had not managed to secure a further outing with Mary, had decided to vent his temper and was complaining loudly that he wanted to be served, now.
***
Lady Fortescue and Colonel Sandhurst sat nervously in an ante-room at Clarence House. Their card of invitation had been coldly handed back to them. They had been told it was a forgery, but they had been commanded to wait.
“What will happen now?” asked Lady Fortescue. “And who would play such a trick on us?”
“Sir Philip,” replied the colonel. “Only Sir Philip could have done this.”
“Nonsense. Why?”
“He was furious that the Prince Regent came to the hotel for dinner when he was away, although how we were expected to get word to him is beyond me. Perhaps this is his nasty way of paying us back.”
“If we get out of here without being arrested,” said Lady Fortescue in a thin voice, “I will wring that old man’s scrawny neck.”
The double doors opened and an aide entered. “Be so good as to follow me,” he said.
Stiff with age and nerves, the elderly couple rose to their feet. They were led through a bewildering succession of rooms until the double doors of an end room were finally thrown open.
“Lady Fortescue and Colonel Sandhurst, sire,” intoned the aide, thumping his tall staff on the floor.
The Prince Regent was lounging in a chair at the far end of the room. His cravat was undone and his swollen face was bloated. Lady Fortescue had the disloyal thought that he looked exactly like the cartoons of him in the print-shops.
The couple approached slowly, Lady Fortescue sinking into a deep court curtsy, proud at her age that she could still manage to perform it without falling over on the carpet.
“What’s this, hey?” asked the prince. “Forged invitation, hey?”
“Our deepest apologies, Your Royal Highness,” said Lady Fortescue, “but we have been, it seems, the victims of a nasty trick.”
“You may be seated.” The royal hand waved. Two chairs were produced.
“We are pleased to receive you, nonetheless,” said the prince. “Demn fine cooking at that place of yours, what?”
“You are too kind, sire,” said the colonel with a slight tremble in his voice which betrayed his nervousness. “In the circumstances, to grant us an audience is gracious and noble and I will cherish this meeting until the end of my days.”
“Then you won’t need to cherish this meeting for much longer, Sandhurst,” said the prince brutally, “for you haven’t many days left.”
Great fat sneering toad, thought the overset Lady Fortescue and then became alarmed at the sedition in her mind.
&n
bsp; The colonel and Lady Fortescue were offered wine, which they accepted.
“It interests us,” said the prince, “to find out the reason you call your hotel such an odd name and why you stoop to be involved in trade.”
There was a little silence while Lady Fortescue and the colonel rummaged their brains for some diplomatic explanation. It was Lady Fortescue who spoke, deciding that truth would serve best.
“We were poor relations, sire, and hard put to it to find our next meal, relying always on the charity of our relatives. We decided to band together with members of our own kind to survive. I had the house in Bond Street, sire, and it was our partner, Sir Philip Sommerville, who suggested the idea of a hotel.”
“But why call it the Poor Relation? Why not The Grand or The Palace?”
Lady Fortescue threw him a roguish look. “We thought our relatives would be so ashamed of us that they would come and buy us out.”
The royal eyes stared at her fixedly and Lady Fortescue wondered if she had overstepped the mark. And then the royal jowls began to shake with laughter, and about the room the friends and courtiers began to laugh as well.
“Demme, we like you,” said the prince. “We will dine with you again. We would like some of the pastries that chef of yours does so well.”
“Sire,” said the colonel, “we shall send you a tray of them tomorrow.”
“Then you have our gracious permission to put our arms above your door.”
All nasty thoughts about this prince faded from Lady Fortescue’s mind, to be replaced by a wave of sheer gladness. She could see the royal arms now, under them a sign proclaiming “By Royal Appointment to His Royal Highness, The Prince of Wales” gleaming above the hotel entrance.
The prince waved his hand to signal that the interview was at an end.
The colonel and Lady Fortescue rose and backed towards the door, the colonel bowing and Lady Fortescue curtsying as they went. In dignified silence, they followed the aide back through the chain of rooms and corridors and so out to their rented carriage and rented coachman.
“Well,” breathed Lady Fortescue, “how wonderful that all turned out to be, but no thanks to Sir Philip Sommerville.”
“I am so happy, I could forgive him everything,” said the colonel. “I was too hasty. Surely it is one of those Bond Street Loungers whom Mr. Davy has sent packing taking his revenge.”
“I would like to find out whether Sir Philip is the guilty party.” Lady Fortescue stared out at the new gaslight in Pall Mall. “And I think I know a way to do it.”
“How?”
A smile curved Lady Fortescue’s thin lips. “Wait and see.”
***
Sir Philip was feeling more and more upset and guilty. In their private sitting-room, Miss Tonks and Mr. Davy were sitting together, Frederica was making a gown, the pattern spread out on the floor, and Captain Manners, of all wretched people, had come to join them instead of escorting his ladies home, which is what any true gentleman should do. The captain was still very angry that the women in his life should have put their heads together to decide his future. He had put them into their carriage and then turned back indoors, meaning to go to his own room, but his steps had taken him instead to the sitting-room at the top of the house.
Colonel Sandhurst was so elated about his visit to the prince that he had forgotten about his longing to sell the hotel. He wanted everyone to be happy—except Sir Philip. He looked at Frederica, who was continuing to cut out that pattern with a steady hand, and yet everything about her figure showed she was aware of the captain’s presence. He saw the way the captain stood irresolute, looking down at her. I will make a match of it between them, he thought suddenly. I am responsible for bringing Frederica here, and it is up to me to see that she is happy.
“So now we are all here, we will tell you what happened,” began Lady Fortescue. She told them how they had found out the invitation was a forgery and yet how the prince had received them and had told them he wanted a tray of Despard’s pastries and that they could put the royal arms above the door. All the time her shrewd black eyes were fastened on Sir Philip, who found it hard put to make his face register all the gratification and gladness the announcement deserved.
“But,” she finished, “the culprit is not going to get away with it. I still have that invitation in my reticule and tomorrow I plan to take it to the magistrate in Bow Street.”
“Some buck playing a trick,” croaked Sir Philip. “Seems a bit excessive to go to Bow Street. They probably won’t do anything about it.”
“What?” Lady Fortescue raised her thin eyebrows. “A forged royal invitation? They will turn out the Runners and, believe me, the Runners know every forger in London, if I am not mistaken. Why, what is the matter, Sir Philip? You look most odd.”
“Must retire,” said Sir Philip desperately. “Indigestion.”
He scuttled out of the room.
“Now I wonder what he will do?” Lady Fortescue looked highly amused.
“So, like myself and Miss Tonks, you think that Sir Philip played a trick on you,” said Mr. Davy. “I think I know the reason for that.”
“Which is?”
Mr. Davy did not want to say that Sir Philip had wanted to upset Captain Manners as a way of getting back at him, so he said instead, “Miss Frederica here was brought to us by Colonel Sandhurst.” The colonel threw him a warning look. Captain Manners was not supposed to know anything about Frederica. “And so, to that end, he wanted Frederica to serve in the dining-room, knowing that that would upset both of you.”
“And did she?” asked Lady Fortescue.
“Miss Tonks and I were just in time. She was about to serve soup to Captain Manners and his party.” Lady Fortescue and the colonel exchanged glances.
“So what do you think Sir Philip will do?” asked the captain. Frederica had finished cutting out the pattern and was neatly rolling up the result.
“If I guess right,” said Lady Fortescue, “he will wait until he thinks I am asleep and try to recover the invitation from my reticule.”
“Go into your bedchamber!” exclaimed the colonel wrathfully. “Surely Sir Philip would not do that!”
“If the only alternative is dangling on a rope at Newgate, Sir Philip will do anything.”
Frederica closed the lid of her work-basket and sat on the sofa. The captain, who had been standing all this time, went and sat next to her.
I should really ask him if his intentions are honourable, worried the colonel. But he must get rid of his fiancée first.
“I did not like to see you subjected to such an indignity this evening,” said the captain in a low voice to Frederica.
“Some servants would consider waiting table a step up the social ladder from working in the kitchens,” said Frederica lightly.
“But you are not a servant,” he said fiercely. “I am… I am concerned for your welfare.”
“Miss Devenham should be your concern. But I thank you.”
“Do you know what I think?” The captain looked at her small hands and longed to take one of them in his own. “I think Sir Philip is so jealous of Mr. Davy that anyone who befriends Mr. Davy is going to be subject to his wrath. He found me taking coffee with Mr. Davy. I think he asked you to work in the dining-room because he knew my party was to be present and he wished to infuriate me.”
“I do not understand,” said Frederica, deliberately obtuse.
His eyes searched hers and suddenly they were lost in each other. They sat very still, gazing intently into each other’s eyes. Frederica felt strange and wonderful emotions surging through her body. Her bosom rose and fell and her lips trembled.
“Ahem!” said the colonel loudly. “It has been an exciting evening, but I suggest we should all retire. Lady Fortescue and I have much to discuss in private.”
Miss Tonks felt small and old and lonely as she noticed the way the captain and Frederica rose together, rose as one person, how he took her hand and led her to the door. The
y were such a beautiful couple, thought Miss Tonks wistfully. And echoing her thoughts, Mr. Davy said, “What a beautiful pair, and unless I am mistaken, very much in love.”
“What would you know of love?” Miss Tonks demanded and walked angrily from the room, brushing past the captain and Frederica in her haste.
“Our Miss Tonks is very upset,” said the captain as he and Frederica walked together down the stairs.
“Sir Philip is enough to try the good nature of a saint,” said Frederica.
“I should think he will have learned a necessary lesson by the time Lady Fortescue is finished with him.” The captain hesitated on the first landing and looked down at her. “Do you ever worry about your parents, what they must be thinking, the distress they must be feeling?”
“Yes, often,” said Frederica. “But I do not think either their distress or their worry will be too great. In fact, I think fury at my behaviour will keep softer feelings at bay for some time. I wrote to them, not saying I was here, but that I was well and safe and with a respectable family. I wrote again to them yesterday to assure them of my continuing well-being. I did not have a very happy time at home recently. I sometimes almost forget Lord Bewley is resident in this hotel and perhaps I have no longer anything to fear from him. But there are other Lord Bewleys in this world. I shall stay here for as long as they will put up with me. I cannot see any other future.”
“I wish…” he began.
“Yes?” She looked up at him.
But he was engaged to be married and had no right to commit himself to anything.
“I mean I would consider it an honour if you would allow me to escort you to your apartment next door.”
“Thank you.”
They went on down the stairs together. He was no longer holding her hand. He wanted to take it in his again but did not dare.
