A Regency Scandal

by Alice Chetwynd Ley

  “You know to a nicety, sir, how to turn a pretty speech,” she said, attempting to introduce a lighter note. “Shall we join Miss Chetwode and her brother? I think supper is about to be served.”

  He acquiesced, realising quite well that although she was ready to join him in a little light nonsense, she had no intention of allowing their relationship to take on a more serious tone. Was not this exactly what he himself wanted? And yet there were times when that sweet face haunted him…

  Supper was an informal affair, with all the guests seating themselves more or less at random. Both Helen and Henry Lydney felt that a brief separation might be of mutual benefit at present, so for once they sat apart. Helen took a chair next to Melissa; when she glanced round to see who her other neighbour might be, she was somewhat surprised to see Shaldon there. For some time his attention was claimed by those seated on his other side, but eventually he turned to her and some general remarks passed between them.

  “I was with James the other day,” he said presently, in a lowered tone, “and he confided to me his aspirations concerning your friend. Not surprisingly, he was a trifle cast down. I only wish I could see some way to assist him, but there seems little hope of that at present. Later on, when he has set up in practice, his friends may be able to put some wealthy patients in his way — though I needn’t tell you that it would have to be done with the utmost address!”

  “Yes, it certainly would, but you are very good to think of it. My friend is cast down, too. They must wait six months at least, and that seems an age to poor Melissa — as indeed, it would to me.”

  “Is that a hypothetical statement, or are you in fact seriously thinking of becoming engaged yourself?”

  His drawling tone belied the sharpness of his glance. She met it steadily, laughing.

  “Goodness, no! I do not think seriously of anything for two minutes together here in London. No doubt it’s monstrous of me, but I seem wholly given over to pleasure and the vanities of the world!”

  “That I don’t believe, I fancy I know you too well.”

  “How should you? Our acquaintance is very recent.”

  “Nonsense! It goes back to our childhood.”

  “There is a great deal of difference, Lord Shaldon, between a child and a woman,” she said, with assumed dignity.

  “A most gratifying difference,” he replied, with a frankly admiring glance that made her look away for a moment. “But, you know, I think it is mostly on the outside.”

  “That’s to say you consider me still immature,” she protested, smiling.

  “It’s to say that I find you unspoilt,” he amended. “There, even you can’t quarrel with that.”

  “No, indeed. Mama always said that you have considerable address,” she retorted.

  “Your game, I think, ma’am,” he said, laughing. “But I’ll concede it gladly if we’re to be friends again. We are, I trust?”

  “Of course, if you promise to refrain from acting as my mentor,” she said, warningly. Then, in a more sober manner, “May I ask you a question?”

  He looked at her searchingly, but his tone was bland as he replied, “Of course.”

  “Well, I’m not perfectly certain if I should have listened while you and Cynthia were talking together just now, before supper,” she began, apologetically, “but it was difficult to avoid hearing what was said, as I was standing so close to you both.”

  “I absolve you,” he answered quickly, a twinkle in his eye. “But what is the question?”

  “I heard her say that Durrant had mentioned your name in some connection with Greenwich Fair, of all things. Do you mean to go there on Whitsun Monday to see what it is all about?”

  “Dear me” — the twinkle spread to an amused smile — “you do take a keen interest in that man’s sayings and doings, don’t you?”

  “You know very well why! I believe he means you some harm, one way or another. I couldn’t manage to persuade you to persevere in discovering the truth from your father, but at least you must see that a visit to the Fair might throw some light on the matter!”

  “Did you chance to hear all that Miss Lydney had to say on that subject?”

  “Most of it, I think.”

  “Then you’ll realise how nebulous it was. Although,” he added, frowning, “I must admit that I’m becoming somewhat intrigued by the subject myself. The obvious course would be to tackle Durrant — but again you may have heard that I was obliged to promise Miss Lydney not to do that.”

  She nodded. “But you will go?” she persisted, eagerly.

  He pondered for a moment. “I think perhaps I may, if only to satisfy you,” he replied at last, laughing.

  “Oh, how I wish I could go with you!”

  “I daresay, but you could not,” he said decidedly.

  “I suppose it would not be considered proper for you to escort me there,” she said, thoughtfully. “Although you might drive me in the Park without occasioning remark — Mr. Lydney has often done so.”

  “So I have observed.”

  “I don’t perceive any difference, but I suppose one must conform to the conventions. But what if James were to take me?”

  “He wouldn’t. Really, ma’am, you do have the most ramshackle notions! A fairground is no fit place for any gently reared female.”

  “Is it so bad? I thought it might be fun, with swings and merry-go-rounds and all manner of colourful sideshows—”

  “And a vulgar, jostling crowd milling about, with pickpockets and other malefactors mingling among ’em,” he interrupted ruthlessly. “No, you can put that notion right out of your head!”

  Helen straightway determined that she would not, but she was wiser than to say so.

  “Well, if you do go — and I hope you will, for I’m certain it will be in your interest — perhaps you’ll be good enough to remember your promise to me and tell me afterwards what you have discovered there?”

  “Of course I’ll do that, but I must warn you that I haven’t any great expectation of discovering anything to the purpose. All these rumours which reach me of Durrant’s sayings and doings seem to point only one way — that the fellow has windmills in his head!”

  “You think perhaps he may have become unhinged?” she asked, doubtfully.

  He was rather amused to see that she had taken his remark seriously for the moment.

  “Let us say that I can think of no other rational explanation for his behaviour. At first, I must admit that I thought you were indulging your fancy, building a romance worthy of Mrs. Radcliffe—”

  “I know that, and it was too bad of you!” she interrupted indignantly.

  “But later,” he continued, ignoring this, “when Lord Lydney dropped me a hint of trouble, I was disposed to think there must be something in it. And now it seems that friend Durrant has been uttering further mysterious pronouncements, the very content of which can only suggest an unbalanced mind. Greenwich Fair, indeed! Good God, what on earth can the activities of a fairground have to do with me? I shall certainly go, but only in the expectation of seeing Durrant carried off in a straitjacket, if in fact he does attend!”

  “Oh, dear!” Helen seemed much struck by this. “Do you really suppose that could be the explanation? Perhaps he’s suffering from the same malady that afflicts our poor King! James tells me the doctors are puzzled to account for the Royal disorder and have tried everything to cure it, but without success. I’ve never really liked Durrant, you know, but I wouldn’t care to see him so stricken down.”

  She glanced at his face, and saw that he was hard put to it not to laugh.

  “Oh, you are roasting me!” she exclaimed indignantly. “You are the most odious person!”

  “Well, if he ain’t mad,” he said, laughing, “you may depend he has some crafty scheme afoot.”

  “Why, so I told you from the first, and you only laughed at me!”

  “That was very reprehensible, and I do sincerely beg your pardon. I can only urge in my defence that it
did appear to be a laughing matter at that time. Now, however, with hints and hearsay buzzing about me like gnats, I intend to make some attempt to get to the bottom of it, once for all. Whit Monday is next week. I’ll go to this Fair, and if I draw a blank there, I’ll see what light my father can throw on the business. He should have returned from Bath by this. There, does that satisfy you?”

  “Oh, yes, but you will tell me all about it, won’t you, should you discover anything?”

  He laughed. “Yes, Miss Curiosity, I promise you that. I wouldn’t put it past you to come prying yourself, should I fail you!”

  She joined in his laughter, but made no other answer for fear of betraying herself. For she had now quite decided that by hook or by crook she was going to Greenwich Fair herself.

  CHAPTER XXX

  For several days, it seemed an insoluble problem. Since she could look for no assistance from either Shaldon or her own brother — for she knew perfectly well that Shaldon had judged James’s reactions to the scheme correctly — who was left to escort her to the Fair? The impropriety of asking either Mr. Lydney or Mr. Chetwode to perform this office struck her more forcibly than when she had begged Shaldon to take her; besides, she was certain they would never agree to the proposition either.

  Then she must go alone.

  This important decision failed to solve her problem. She could think of no way to secure a whole day away from Lady Chetwode’s protection that did not involve her in the telling of elaborate lies to one who had shown her so much kindness. Helen’s straightforward nature revolted from such a course, and she almost gave up the scheme.

  It was then that she remembered Uncle Charles. Captain Charles Paxton was the elder brother of Helen’s mother, a Naval Captain on half pay since the cessation of the war with France. He was a bachelor of a lively disposition, and had always been particularly fond of Helen, whom he declared was exactly like her mother had been at the same age.

  “Do try and find time to visit him with James,” Amanda Somerby had urged her daughter on parting. “He lives in Blackheath, on the other side of the Thames. Papa will show you the place on the map, and I’ll give you his precise direction. I’ve written to tell him when you’ll be in Town, but he’s not a man for making social calls. Moreover, he isn’t acquainted with the Chetwodes, so I daresay the first move will have to come from you.”

  Helen had promised readily, for Uncle Charlie was a firm favourite; but in the rush of engagements which awaited her in Town, there had been no time yet to pay the visit. She hastened to consult a map in the library, and confirmed that Uncle Charlie’s house in Blackheath was no distance at all from Greenwich Park, where she had learnt the Fair was held. Delighted, she at once sought Lady Chetwode’s permission to make the visit on Whit Monday, it then being Sunday.

  Lady Chetwode could not object, but she did demur. It was very proper that Helen should pay a visit to her Uncle, but would it not be wiser to write first and find out which day was convenient to him?

  “And it would be so much nicer, too, if you could arrange for your brother to accompany you,” she added.

  Helen felt crestfallen, but did not allow this to appear.

  “Oh, no, Uncle Charlie is very easy, ma’am. Besides, tomorrow is the only day for ages when we have no other engagements. I don’t know when I can promise otherwise.”

  Her persistence won the argument, and it was arranged that Helen should go on the following day in the Chetwodes’ coach, accompanied by her maid. Only Melissa said darkly, when they were in private, that she was sure Helen was up to something; an accusation that was laughed off a trifle self-consciously.

  Captain Paxton occupied a house in the Paragon, an elegant crescent of moderate sized houses linked by Doric arcades which unified the design. The crescent had originally been built to provide suitable accommodation for either serving or retired naval officers, and there were still many such among the Captain’s neighbours. Helen trembled a little as she raised her hand to the knocker, for so much depended upon finding Uncle Charles at home.

  Her fears soon subsided as a manservant admitted her and showed her into the drawing room, while her maid was offered a seat in the hall. A quick step on the threshold, a “God bless my soul!” and Uncle Charles had enveloped her in a bearlike hug.

  “God bless my soul!” he exclaimed again, a wide grin spreading over his tanned, lively face. “Little Nelly! And where’s that rascal of a brother of yours, eh?”

  “At the hospital, as far as I know, Uncle,” she said, kissing him on both cheeks.

  “Couldn’t get away from duty, what? He’ll be finished there soon, though — six months, wasn’t it? Went there in October, as I recall so he should’ve finished at the end of last month. What’s keeping him on, eh?”

  “He’s waiting for his examination by the Board of the Society of Apothecaries. I think it’s to be in a few weeks’ time.”

  “Anchor’s aweigh then, what?”

  Helen considered this for a moment. “If that means he’ll be ready to begin on his partnership with Dr. Gillies at Paddington, I suppose so,” she conceded.

  “Should have gone into the Navy as a sawbones — quicker to get on there. Told y’father so at the time, but he preferred his own road. Quite right. A man should make his own decisions. Well, and how many beaux have you got dangling on a string, young lady? Sit down, sit down, and I’ll get some wine. No, of course, not wine — what is it you females take? Ratafia? Pernicious stuff — don’t think we’ve any in the house but soon remedy that. Davey!”

  The final word was uttered in a bellow and brought the manservant into the room at the double. He stood to attention as if on the quarterdeck.

  “Ratafia for the lady,” snapped the Captain.

  “I don’t think, sir—”

  “Not paid to think, are you? If there ain’t any, get some. Understood?”

  “Ay, ay. Cap’n.”

  Helen interrupted just as the man turned smartly on his heel to leave.

  “No, no, not for me — I detest it, too. Well, if you insist, I’ll take a glass of lemonade instead.”

  As this seemed to pose no problems in the household, Helen was soon supplied with it. She chatted vivaciously away for the next quarter of an hour on family matters, until she chanced to notice the Captain glancing surreptitiously at the clock on the mantelshelf.

  “Oh, I beg your pardon, Uncle, I had not thought. Do you happen to be doing anything particular today?”

  “Matter of fact,” he admitted, “I had arranged to go and see a mill — prize fight boxing, y’know — with a neighbour of mine. He was to call for me presently — but that’s no matter. I’ll send a signal to say I’m not available. Not every day a pretty girl calls on me, what?”

  “Pray don’t put off your engagement on my account, because I can’t stay long myself. There’s just one thing, though, Uncle Charlie — a favour I’ve to ask of you—”

  “Ask away.”

  “Well, it’s this.”

  She hesitated, not quite knowing how to proceed. It was useless to suppose that Uncle Charles, even though he did happen to be the least stuffy man in the world, would look with favour on her intended project; yet she could not bring herself to deceive him.

  “I’m waiting to hear, child,” he prompted her.

  “Oh, dear! Will you try to be most angelically understanding?” Her soft hazel eyes looked pleadingly into his. “Lady Chetwode supposed that I would be spending the whole day with you, and doesn’t expect me back before five o’clock. But in fact — in fact—”

  She faltered and broke down before his shrewd look.

  “In fact you’re off somewhere you’ve no business to be, eh, my girl? And you want to use me as a smoke screen, that it?”

  She nodded, blushing.

  “Is there a man in this?” he demanded, fiercely.

  “No! It’s nothing of that kind, I assure you — only — only a — a prank of which she wouldn’t approve. But I must go. It
’s very important. I can’t tell you now, but I will later — truly!”

  “A prank, eh? A bit old for that, ain’t you? And what would your Mama say to it, I wonder? D’you suppose she’d allow you to do whatever it is?”

  “Well — well, no, I don’t suppose she’d like it,” Helen admitted, honestly. “But I think she’d do it herself, in my place, all the same.”

  He gave a short laugh. “Very likely! Amanda was always a resty piece, full of larks. Well, I’m not the man to spoil anyone’s fun, but see here, Niece, I must be sure that you’ll come to no harm in this. Why, your Ma would have my blood if I let anything happen to you, make no mistake.” He took her by the shoulders, looking long and earnestly into her face. “D’you swear there’s no man at the bottom of this? No clandestine meetings, or anything of that kind? Answer truthfully, now!”

  She gave him back look for look as she assured him of his. He appeared satisfied, for he nodded.

  “Ay, well, no doubt I’m a fool, but I’ll trust you. Always found you a truthful child, and folks don’t change in that way. One thing, though, you must be back here by three o’clock from wherever it is you’re going. That’s an order. It gives you three and a half hours, and that’s quite long enough. If you’re not here by then, b’God, I’ll send out a search party. Don’t care to tell me whereabouts you’ll be, I suppose?” She shook her head apologetically. “Very well, I won’t press you, but just have a care. Bring your maid, did you?”

  Helen nodded.

  “You won’t want her, so I’ll give her sailing orders back to Cavendish Square. I’ll be back here before three o’clock, and when you turn up — and you’d better not be late, my girl! — I’ll drive you home myself. Understood?”

  Helen flung herself into his arms. “Oh, Uncle Charlie, you are the dearest best, most understanding of uncles in the whole, wide world!”

  “Ay, and the greatest fool,” he retorted, trying not to look pleased. “Now, can I drop you off anywhere, or am I to leave you to your own devices? I hear my neighbour’s knock at the door, so I must be off in a minute.”