He started to rise at Shaldon’s entrance, evidently quite overcome by the honour of this visit; but he was politely waved back into his chair. Mrs. Harrison, having offered refreshment which was civilly refused, withdrew, leaving the two alone in the room.
“And how are you keeping?” Shaldon asked, having shaken hands cordially and accepted a seat on the other side of the hearth. “Your quarters look snug enough, and evidently you’ve been busying yourself in the garden, for it looked quite a picture as I walked through.”
The old man glowed with pleasure. “You’re very good to say so, my lord. Yes, I’m out there most days when the weather’s clement, though it don’t help my rheumatics, or so Mrs. Harrison will have it. But a man must keep active, my lord, and mine was a very active life, when I was serving the Earl. Have you come down to see his lordship? No doubt you’ll have been told he’s away in Bath taking the waters just now.” He shook his head dolefully. “His lordship suffers much with the gout, I fear.”
“Yes, I did come hoping to see him. However, that’s no matter, and instead I’ve just passed a useful and instructive hour with Fowler, your successor.”
“A good man, I can assure you, my lord, and has the interests of the estate at heart. I trained him myself, so I’m sure of that. I’m glad that your lordship has taken the opportunity of talking over some business affairs with him. It’s time now that you should have some say in the management of the estate,” he continued, with the freedom of an old servant which Fowler had lacked. “By rights, you should be taking over a little from the Earl, for the poor gentleman’s health is not equal nowadays to the demands made upon him in that regard.”
“Very true, and I hope to persuade him of it when next we meet.”
Shaldon then went on for a time to discuss various points raised by Fowler. He listened with courteous attention to all the old man had to say, for he valued the opinion of one who was so expert on this subject.
“By the way,” he said casually, when they had come to the end of this discourse, “do you know of any business affairs which my father has in Sussex?”
Harrison repeated the words slowly. “Odd that you should ask that, my lord. I was wondering about it myself. When Bertram was last here, he went posting down to Sussex on the Earl’s behalf, though nothing would make him say what his errand was. There’s something — I don’t quite know what—”
He broke off, and Shaldon waited patiently.
“There’s some maggot in that boy’s head,” Harrison went on, at last, sighing. “I don’t understand him — never did, my lord; even as a boy he was too clever for me. His father was a lawyer, you know. Tricksy lot, lawyers, by and large.” He hesitated again. “Seems he and the Earl have some secret together, though what it can be is more than I can fathom. Sussex, though. There’s nothing I know of to connect your family affairs with that county.”
“You don’t chance to know the exact location of this errand?”
“No, my lord, though I did my utmost to discover that and the nature of it, as you may suppose. But Bertram’s as close as a clam when he chooses, and I daren’t press him too hard for fear of upsetting his mother. Spoils him, of course, but what mother doesn’t spoil her son? There’s a friend a man may always depend upon, and precious little asked in return. What Bertram did disclose was that the Earl was to make some splendid recompense for his services — something to further his career beyond what he’d ever had any notion of, before.”
“Indeed?”
“You may well sound surprised, my lord. So was I, for it puzzled me to think what the boy could possibly do that would cause his lordship to feel such gratitude. I only hope it may not be something that don’t turn out well, for I think Bertram’s building his hopes high, and often that’s dangerous. He’s a strange lad, my lord, and hasn’t altogether turned out as I would have wished — but there, he’s not my own flesh and blood, so perhaps I judge him too harshly. I’ve always tried to do my duty by him for his mother’s sake, but I can’t claim to have a natural father’s feelings.”
Shaldon could not help reflecting that Harrison had performed his parental role a good deal more satisfactorily than at least one natural father in the neighbourhood; but he kept this thought to himself, merely uttering reassurances to the old man, and recommending him to think no more of the journey to Sussex.
“Most likely it’s all a hum,” he said, rising to go. “And now I must be on my way. I shall look in on you again, if I may, when next I come down.”
Harrison said he would be honoured, and insisted on accompanying Shaldon to the door, where he stood with his wife to bid a respectful farewell. Only the cat seemed unimpressed by the noble visitor; it yawned widely as the two men left the parlour, then settled back to sleep on the hearthrug.
CHAPTER XXIII
It was scarcely to be supposed that Melissa would not demand a satisfactory explanation of her friend’s extraordinary behaviour in Piccadilly. As soon as the two girls reached home and had gained the privacy of Melissa’s bedchamber, Helen found herself called to account.
“It will be monstrous if you don’t tell me what you meant by it!” declared Melissa, roundly. “And I confide everything to you — at least, almost everything,” she concluded, on a weaker note.
“Oh, so you have a secret, have you?” laughed Helen. “Very well, Miss — a fair exchange, or nothing!”
“If that isn’t just like you, to seize the advantage when I’m simply bursting with curiosity over your little escapade! But I do assure you that I’ve nothing to tell that can be half so intriguing as this mystery of yours, so you needn’t think to fob me off so easily. You may as well begin at once.”
She plumped herself down in a chair, folding her arms and looking very determined.
“Oh, very well,” capitulated Helen, untying the strings of her bonnet and tossing it onto the bed to join Melissa’s. “But doubtless you’ll only laugh at me, as Lord Shaldon did, for perhaps it is all in my imagination. I warn you, Mel, this will take some time to explain, for the story really starts back in my childhood, so you’d best prepare for a long session if you’re determined to hear the whole.”
“Heavens!” squeaked Melissa, wide-eyed. “Never say that you have been in the throes of a secret passion for all those years and have kept it tightly locked in your bosom, like the heroine of some delightful romance!”
This caused Helen to laugh so heartily that she soon infected her friend, and for a time neither could speak.
“Oh, Mel!” exclaimed Helen at last, as she wiped tears of mirth from her eyes, “I declare you’re worse than I am for melodramatic imaginings! Now, pray be quiet if you really wish me to tell you anything, for I shall never begin at this rate.”
Her friend having duly promised to attempt this difficult feat, Helen started by explaining the childhood relationship which involved Baron Lydney’s secretary Bertram Durrant, of whom Melissa naturally knew nothing. She concluded her account by repeating the remarks made by Durrant which had caused her to feel some alarm for Viscount Shaldon.
“But when later I told Mama what he had said,” continued Helen, “she thought it only spite, so I dismissed it from my mind. Especially as soon afterwards I came to London, and had other things to engage my attention. It was only when we went to Astley’s that it all came back to me again.”
“Astley’s? Why, whatever can have occurred there?” demanded Melissa, incredulously.
“I didn’t mention it to you at the time, but I saw Durrant there — and in the kind of company I knew well he would never keep in the normal course of things.”
And Helen went on to explain more fully, finishing with an account of the recent escapade which had so startled her friend.
“You see, I felt I simply must dash after that man, whoever he is,” she concluded. “And then what must I do but bump into Lord Shaldon, of all people, on my way back to you.”
“Did you tell him about it?”
“I didn’t in
tend to, at first, but he was prodigiously stuffy about my being in the street alone, so of course it all came out. I wish it had not, for he only laughed at me and said I was letting my imagination run wild. Perhaps I am, too — but, Mel, I have the oddest feeling that there is something queer afoot, something that constitutes a threat to Lord Shaldon, if only he could be made to see it!”
Melissa nodded sympathetically, and was thoughtful for a moment.
“Why don’t you consult with your brother?” she suggested at last, with a slightly self-conscious air that Helen was at present too preoccupied to notice. “He and Viscount Shaldon are close friends, and he will know what ought to be done, I am sure.”
“I may perhaps do that,” replied Helen, dubiously. “Only I’m not certain that James may not think me fanciful, too. As Lord Shaldon said, it does sound a farrago of nonsense.”
“Did he say that?” asked Melissa, indignantly. “Well, I must say, Nell, I think it was vastly uncivil, after all your concern on his behalf!”
“Oh, well, we were almost one family as children, and I think perhaps he’s beginning to slip back into the old familiar ways. Not that I mean to allow it!” she exclaimed, elevating her chin. “One brother is quite enough for any girl, and so I told him!”
“Quite right. And if you do want to confide in Mr. Somerby,” said Melissa, pursuing her own line of thought, “could we not visit him at the hospital? We could perhaps find out at the same time how that poor woman goes on — the one who was knocked down in the street, you know.”
Helen hesitated. “I doubt if your Mama would agree to that. She would almost certainly fear the risk of infection.”
Melissa’s face fell. “I daresay you are right. Well, then you must ask him to come and see you here. Mama said he was to come at any time, recollect, and not to stand on ceremony. He is invited to our ball, of course, but that is still more than a fortnight away, just after the Royal Drawing Room.”
“The Drawing Room! The ball!” exclaimed Helen. “Good heavens, as little as a fortnight away! I only hope I shall contrive to wear a hoop without falling over it. I know one should show respect to the Queen, but nothing could be more mortifying than positively to grovel on the floor before her Majesty!”
“Mama said we must practise,” said Melissa, after they had laughed over this. “Her dresser, Travers, will soon put us in the way of it. She’s so antiquated, poor dear, that I daresay everyone wore hoops in her youth! But do send a message to your brother asking him to call on us soon, for a come-out ball is not at all the occasion for serious conversation. Besides, you won’t wish to leave it so long, I am positive, knowing you as I do.”
This time Helen’s attention was drawn by her friend’s persistence in urging an early visit from James. She gave her a quizzical look.
“Pray tell me, Melissa, is it solely for my peace of mind that you wish me to summon James?”
Somewhat to her amusement, she saw Melissa redden.
“I can’t think what you mean. He is the only member of your own family close at hand, so it’s only natural for you to turn to him when there’s anything vexing you,” she said, defensively.
“Melissa!” exclaimed Helen, in stern tones. “Never say that this is Monsieur Falaise all over again!”
“Monsieur Falaise,” repeated her friend, scornfully, while she pressed a hand to her telltale cheeks. “I wonder you can mention his name beside that of — of—”
“Of my brother James? Oh, Mel, you must not make him the object of one of your schoolgirl’s fancies, as you termed them yourself not so long since! It will never do, my dear, you must see that.”
“It’s not like that — like the dancing master, I mean.” Melissa’s brown eyes were deep and serious. “I wanted to keep it from you, Nell, but since you’ve guessed, you may as well know that my — my feelings for your brother go much deeper.” Her voice dropped away, and she spoke the final words in a whisper. “I love him, Helen, indeed I do.”
“Oh, no, how can you?” asked Helen, in a dismayed tone. “Why, you’ve met him only a few times, and then always in company with others. Depend upon it, the feeling will wear off presently just as the other did!”
“Why should you suppose that I can’t truly be in love?” demanded Melissa, indignantly. “Other girls fall in love, don’t they? Am I so vastly different from everyone else?”
“Well, dearest, you are rather inclined to be volatile,” said Helen in an affectionate tone that robbed the words of any offence. “Also you’re young yet to be certain of having formed a lasting attachment.”
“I’m eight months younger than you, it’s true, but I’m eighteen, after all! Besides, I don’t think age has anything to do with falling in love, whatever you may say! But now that you know my secret,” she went on, in a more subdued, almost humble tone, “do tell me, Nell — do you think I’ve the remotest hope of ever attaching your brother?”
“You’ve only to look in your mirror, love, to see that you’re attractive enough to attach any man!” exclaimed Helen, in a rallying tone. “The only thing is,” she went on, more doubtfully, “James cannot be thinking of marriage for some time yet. He’s not in the same situation as your brother, or the other gentlemen of your acquaintance. He still has to make his way in the world.”
“I would wait — for years and years, if need be! But I daresay he would never look my way,” she continued, despondent again. “Tell me truly, Nell, without any hedging — is there anyone else?”
Helen shook her head decidedly. “No… I am quite confident of that, for he would have told me. We are very close. You see, I think he’s always been too taken up with his vocation to have found time for those social occasions where he might have met suitable females.”
Melissa’s face brightened. “Then I can at least hope!”
“Yes, but — Mel, dearest, have you considered?” Helen spoke with some difficulty. “Your parents may not think a medical man an eligible match for you. Indeed, I must confess that it would surprise me if they did. All things considered — though I don’t need to tell you that there’s no one I would rather have for a sister! — I believe it would really be in your best interests to try to get the better of your partiality for James. And so I don’t think I shall invite him to visit me here, after all, since the less you see of him, the easier it will be for you. Don’t you agree, my love?”
A despondent shrug was the only answer. Helen placed an arm about her friend’s shoulders.
“Come along. Let’s go and practise walking in our hoops for a while. That should make you laugh again!”
Late afternoon was the fashionable time for riding or driving in Hyde Park, and as Lady Chetwode’s smart landau turned through the gates, Helen’s unaccustomed eyes widened at the sight before her. The traffic here was as dense as on any busy London street, but only the most elegant equipages were to be seen. The ladies, dressed in modish toilettes of every hue with fetching bonnets decked with plumes and ribbons, drove out in landaus, landaulets or barouches with a bewigged coachman on the box and sometimes a powdered footman resplendent in livery in attendance. The gentlemen drove their own curricles, tilburies or dashing high-perch phaetons, with what they termed ‘prime bits of blood’ between the shafts; or else they were mounted on stylish thoroughbreds like the one which Philip Chetwode was at present riding close by the vehicle which bore the ladies.
“Good Heavens!” exclaimed Helen to Melissa. “How on earth can we ever hope to see Catherine in all this crush?”
“There’s no depending on it at all, my dear,” replied Lady Chetwode, “but we shall see a great many other people. Look, there is the Duchess of Rutland—” She broke off to bow graciously in the direction of an elegant landau with a crest on its panels. “And there is Lady Jersey with the Countess of Lieven — I think they are stopping. I do hope so,” she added in an undertone, “for I wish to present you both so that I can persuade them to give you vouchers for Almack’s.”
Her wish was
granted, for the two ladies desired their coachman to halt the very slow progress possible in all that concourse, and brief greetings were exchanged. The introductions were made and received with a slight bow on the ladies’ side and a more respectful one on that of the two girls, before the carriages moved away.
“That is very important, is it not, ma’am, to have vouchers for Almack’s?” asked Helen.
“Oh, dear me, yes. One can almost say that it’s as important to a young lady as being presented. You are not in the ton, you know, if you are not admitted there. Those are two of the patronesses, and their goodwill is essential to obtain an entrance.”
“To as slow a place of entertainment as any in London!” exclaimed Philip, with a laugh, as he heard these remarks.
“Well, of course, gentlemen do not think much of Almack’s, because the card games there are played for such low stakes,” explained Lady Chetwode to her guest.
“Sixpenny points!” declared Philip, in disgust. “And the refreshments a disgrace, assure you, Miss Somerby.”
Helen, whom he thought was looking particularly charming in a pale blue carriage dress and a high crowned bonnet trimmed with ruched ribbon of the same shade, turned towards him to smile at this remark, and caught the eye of a dark haired gentleman mounted on a handsome grey. Recognising Philip Chetwode with his second glance, the horseman hailed him; then managing his animal in all the press of vehicles and riders with an ease which drew forth Helen’s admiration, he came close to the landau in order to pay his respects to Lady Chetwode. Something vaguely familiar in his face caused Helen to stare at him until she heard Lady Chetwode address him as Mr. Lydney; the next moment she found herself being presented to this playfellow of her youth.
A Regency Scandal Page 27
