Lady Jane's Ribbons

by Sandra Wilson

  A stir of whispering and more laughter rippled through the auditorium as Henry jumped to his feet as well, so furious that he didn’t care what he said or who heard him say it. ‘Gallant appreciation! The toad’s after your fortune, and you appear to be the only one in Town who doesn’t know it!’

  The duke leapt up then. ‘I say, Felbridge, I demand you take that back!’

  ‘I never take back the truth,’ replied Henry coldly.

  There were gasps now and Jane looked urgently at Charles, afraid that her hotheaded brother was about to provoke a challenge.

  Charles got up quickly, putting a warning hand on his friend’s arm. ‘Henry, steady now, don’t be so hasty.’

  ‘I’ll not brook any more that – that – that….’ Words failed Henry and he could only gesture derisively in the duke’s direction.

  Jane felt utterly wretched. By reacting as he had, Henry had played straight into his rival’s hands, and Blanche’s mood was such that she was allowing herself to be manipulated away from the man she really loved.

  Blanche was alarmed at the situation she’d unthinkingly allowed to arise, but Henry’s reaction made her too angry to care. ‘You’re a beast, Henry Derwent,’ she cried, her voice breaking a little, ‘and I don’t know why I ever thought I was in love with you. Here, take your horrid ring and put it through one of your wretched coachhorse’s noses instead!’ She thrust the ring into his hand and then snatched up her boa and reticule, turning to the duke, her face flushed and her eyes bright with unshed tears. ‘Sir, will you do me the honor of escorting me home?’

  He smiled, tossing Henry a final triumphant glance. ‘By all means,’ he murmured, offering her his arm. She flicked her skirts as if afraid they would be spoiled if they brushed against Henry, and then they left the box, to the continuing murmurs of astonishment from the audience.

  Jane was so shocked by the suddenness of Blanche’s action, that she could only sit there, gazing in dismay at her brother’s stunned face. He was very pale, staring at the ring as if turned momentarily to stone. But even as she watched, his hurt disbelief turned to rage again and his fingers closed convulsively over the ring.

  The disturbance apparently over, the audience returned its attention to the stage, where Madame Vestris was valiantly continuing with her performance, and in a moment the Marquis of Bourton’s box ceased to be of interest.

  Jane looked anxiously at her brother, who still stood where he was. ‘Henry?’

  He turned to her, his face still very pale, but his eyes bright with anger. ‘She showed me her true colors tonight, didn’t she? How blind I’ve been, thinking her so perfect when all the time she is the most two-faced flirt who ever walked, beckoning to her precious dukeling and making an utter fool of me at the same time!’

  ‘Oh, Henry, you mustn’t say that. It just isn’t true.’

  ‘Isn’t it? Did she discourage him? Did she withdraw her hand when he kissed her palm? No, she didn’t; she enjoyed every moment of my humiliation. I wish her well of him, for he’ll undoubtedly make her as wretched and unhappy as she deserves to be.’ He turned on his heel then and strode out, slamming the box door behind him with such a force that the noise resounded around the auditorium like a thunderclap, causing yet another stir.

  Jane would have hurried after him, but Charles stopped her. ‘Leave him,’ he said quietly. ‘He’s too angry to be reasonable at the moment.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘No buts.’ He sat down again, taking her hand and squeezing her fingers. ‘It had to happen some time; he’d allowed things to go too far.’

  ‘Charles, Blanche doesn’t love the duke, she loves Henry. She didn’t mean to give him back his ring, it was an impulse, a spur-of-the-moment thing!’

  ‘Then let them sort themselves out. Be sensible now, Jane. All you’ll achieve if you rush off after him is more heartache for yourself, and if you think otherwise, you don’t know your brother very well. He’ll take himself off to Brooks’s now and I should imagine they’ll have to bring him home in the early hours.’

  ‘Then you must be with him, to see that he’s all right.’

  He groaned. ‘Henry won’t thank me, Jane, of that you may be sure.’

  ‘Please, Charles,’ she begged. ‘Do it for me.’

  He met her earnest gaze then and reluctantly nodded. ‘Oh, all right. I’ll take you home and then go and find him, although he doesn’t deserve it you know. He behaved very foolishly tonight.’

  She lowered her eyes again. ‘I know.’

  He drew her hand to his lips. ‘But for you I’ll see that he gets home safely, although as to his sobriety, that I cannot answer for.’

  He got up then, putting her shawl about her shoulders. As she rose from her seat, she couldn’t help glancing for a last time toward Lewis’s box. It was empty.

  TWENTY

  Henry was very much the worse for wear when Charles at last managed to bring him home at dawn. Jane had been lying in her bed, plagued by a guilty conscience about her secret plotting with Wheddle, for she imagined him to be devastated and heart-broken and at the very least plunged into the depths of despair; but the truth was very different, as she discovered when she went to see how he was. He was still very disagreeable and unreasonable where Blanche was concerned, roundly condemning her as being solely to blame for what had happened, and declaring himself over and over to be well rid of her. He considered himself to be the injured party, not deserving in any way to be treated as shabbily as Blanche had treated him and it wasn’t long before Jane’s sympathy and conscience flew out of the window and she was as determined as ever to teach him the lesson he apparently still had to learn.

  He rose very late the next day, coming gingerly down in the early afternoon to the blue saloon, where she was writing another letter to Aunt Derwent, informing her of the latest developments. He eased himself into his chair, leaning his aching head back and announcing that he’d never touch a drop of maraschino again, ever.

  She put the finishing touches to the letter and quickly sealed it, placing it in the dish for Melville to see that it was posted. Then she surveyed her brother, who looked very sorry for himself, his dark hair disheveled and his face somewhat pale and fragile. She wondered if he was feeling any more remorseful now that he’d had a little time to think. ‘Have you taken any honey and lemon?’ she asked.

  ‘I loathe honey and lemon.’

  ‘It’s a sovereign remedy for the aftereffects of being disgustingly in drink.’

  ‘I wasn’t in drink.’

  She gave a laugh of disbelief. ‘How can you possibly say that when you had to be positively dragged home?’

  ‘I remember everything and know that I wasn’t in drink.’

  She decided to drop the subject. ‘Are you going to see Blanche today?’ she asked tentatively.

  ‘No.’

  Her heart sank. He evidently hadn’t changed his mind. ‘Don’t you think you should?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘I’ve no desire to ever see her again,’ he interrupted flatly, reaching over to pick up a journal and flick through the pages in a way which was meant to terminate the conversation.

  She wasn’t so easily deterred. ‘I can’t believe you’re persisting with this silly pretense.’

  ‘Pretense?’

  ‘About Blanche. You know you still love her.’

  ‘It isn’t a pretense and I most certainly do not still love her. In fact, I can’t imagine that I ever deceived myself I loved her in the first place.’ He looked deliberately at the journal again, as if engrossed.

  ‘That, sir, was a whopper.’

  ‘As you wish.’ He shrugged.

  She sighed. ‘This is quite ridiculous.’

  ‘You can save your breath, sis, for nothing you say will make any difference. My betrothal to Miss Blanche Lyndon is at an end, and I’m glad that it is. I certainly don’t intend to go crawling to her, not now that I’ve seen her for what she really is
.’

  ‘Which is what?’

  ‘A spoiled, selfish, fickle strumpet who richly deserves a wretch like Dursley.’

  Jane was appalled. ‘Henry, you don’t mean that!’

  ‘Oh, yes I do.’

  ‘How could you possibly say such a dreadful thing?’

  ‘With great ease, since it happens to be the truth.’

  ‘Please stop this, Henry. Go to her this afternoon.’

  ‘I’ve better things to do than waste my time and energy upon someone like her.’

  ‘Things connected with coaching, no doubt,’ she said drily.

  ‘Why not? You surely don’t think last night’s little episode is going to make me change, do you?’ He would have given a derisive laugh had he not been so mindful of his aching head. ‘Damn it all, Jane, she gave me back my ring and then waltzed off with Dursley.’

  ‘It wasn’t quite like that, and you know it. You could quite easily go to her now if you wished. You’re just being beastly and stubborn.’

  ‘I’ve already planned what I’m going to do today,’ he replied airly. ‘As I think I mentioned yesterday, when you were being so uncommon interested in my coaching, I’m very curious about Arthur Huggett’s reappearance and so I’m going to send someone around to the Feathers to take a sly peek at what’s going on there.’

  She gave no outward reaction. ‘Henry, what on earth difference does it make what’s going on there? All that really matters is that you do your utmost to win Blanche back!’

  ‘I don’t want her back.’

  ‘Go to her. Please.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Henry—’

  ‘I said no and I meant no. Don’t be boring, Jane. I’m tired of talking about Blanche and would much prefer to read this journal.’

  ‘Then I suggest you stand on your head.’

  ‘Eh?’

  ‘It’s upside down.’

  He scowled and turned it the other way. ‘Leave me in peace, can’t you? All I want is to sit here and have a quiet read.’

  Exasperated, she got up. ‘You’re behaving very badly, Henry, and I only hope you still think your precious coaching is worth it when you’ve not only lost Blanche but probably that wretched race as well.’

  His smile was infuriatingly smug. ‘Lose the race? Not a chance, dear thing, not a chance.’

  She could have boxed his ears. ‘Well, maybe you don’t care about Blanche, but I certainly do, and I’m going to see her right now.’

  ‘Toddle off to her if you wish, it’s immaterial to me. But don’t think you can do anything to make me change my mind, because you can’t.’

  It was the last straw, and she couldn’t bear to be with him any longer. Flinging from the room, she slammed the door behind her as loudly as she possibly could, taking a savage delight in knowing that the noise would throb horridly through his aching head.

  She instructed Melville to see that the town carriage was brought around immediately instead of the landau, for it was extremely windy and threatened to rain, and she was careful to ask that Ellen’s Thomas was the coachman, because after visiting Blanche she intended to go to the Feathers to warn Jacob about Henry’s plan to send someone to snoop.

  Shortly afterward, wearing a brown-and-white-checkered morning dress and matching pelisse, a lace veil draped in readiness over her straw bonnet so that she could conceal her face when on the way to the Feathers, she emerged from the house with Ellen. The wind was very strong indeed, whipping her skirts around her ankles and almost tugging the bonnet from her head as she climbed quickly into the waiting carriage.

  Blanche received her gladly, relieved that the previous evening’s events hadn’t jeopardized their friendship. In a rustle of pale green lawn, she hurried to hug Jane the moment she was shown into the library at Lyndon House. ‘Jane!’ she cried. ‘Oh, I’m so glad to see you. I was afraid you might fall out with me after last night!’

  ‘I don’t blame you for last night – well, not entirely anyway.’

  Blanche bit her lip and lowered her eyes guiltily. ‘I was a bit naughty, wasn’t I?’

  ‘Just a little.’

  ‘I was just so angry with Henry, even though he started out by doing all he could to make things up to me. He was just so horrid when the duke arrived….’

  ‘I know.’

  Blanche sat down, nervously toying with the finger which had so recently been adorned with Henry’s ring. ‘How – how is he?’

  Jane joined her on the sofa. ‘I’d be a fibber if I said he was displaying any overwhelming heartbreak. In fact, he’s doing all he can to show that he couldn’t care a fig.’

  ‘Oh.’ Tears filled Blanche’s eyes.

  ‘It’s an act, Blanche,’ went on Jane more gently. ‘He’s quite devastated, I’m sure of it, but he’s determined not to show it.’

  ‘I love him so much, Jane. I only wanted to teach him a lesson. I didn’t mean to let it all get out of hand like that.’

  Jane smiled wryly. ‘I think we all want to teach him a lesson, and no one more than me.’

  Blanche looked curiously at her. ‘You sounded very strange when you said that.’

  Jane hesitated, but then on impulse decided to tell her everything. ‘I’ve been up to no good of late, Blanche. In fact, I’ve been scheming, because I’ve had enough of my brother’s selfish antics.’

  Blanche’s eyes widened. ‘Jane, whatever is it?’

  ‘I’ve been financing a stagecoach so that it can enter the race on Midsummer Day.’

  Blanche stared at her.

  ‘And what’s more,’ Jane went on, ‘I’m going to be on that coach when it comes in first.’

  Blanche couldn’t speak for a moment, she was so taken aback, but at last she found her tongue. ‘You can’t possibly be serious.’

  ‘I’m afraid I am.’ Jane then described in detail all that had happened since the afternoon she’d first seen the notice outside the Hanover Square Rooms.

  Blanche remained in stunned silence throughout, and when the visit to Brighton was related in full, then her eyes grew rounder than ever. ‘You actually went to Brighton with Lewis and stayed overnight in the same inn?’

  ‘Yes, but I assure you, we slept in separate beds.’

  ‘I believe you, but think what sport the scandalmongers would have if it got out.’

  ‘I’d rather not think about it, thank you,’ replied Jane with feeling.

  Blanche took a long breath. ‘I can’t believe you’ve been doing all this and I didn’t guess a thing.’ She looked at Jane. ‘Is Lewis still going to horse the coach for you?’

  ‘I doubt it. He cut me at the theater last night.’ Jane lowered her eyes.

  ‘When did he do that?’

  ‘While I was waiting outside the box for Charles.’ She paused, her voice catching in her throat. ‘I love him, Blanche.’

  ‘We all know that.’

  ‘It was awful when he wouldn’t speak to me.’

  Blanche put a sympathetic hand on hers. ‘I know the feeling, since I appear to be in the same boat now. What a pair we are, both of us hopelessly in love, and both of us guilty of perverse behavior which has alienated us from the objects of that love.’

  ‘Maybe we’re at fault, but they haven’t exactly behaved well, have they? Henry’s been a beast to end all beasts, and Lewis – well, Lewis has just been two-faced.’

  ‘Has he? He was right when he told you in Brighton that Alicia had a vested interest in lying to you.’

  ‘I don’t think she was lying.’

  Blanche got up, gazing out at the windswept garden where the summer leaves were occasionally torn from the branches to dance wildly through the air. She turned suddenly back to Jane. ‘I want to be with you on the coach.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘I want to be there when Henry sees the Swan’s dust in front of him.’

  ‘Blanche, he won’t like it when he sees me on the coach. He’ll like it even less if he sees you as well. Besides, I’m told
that even my presence is more than is wise, since every extra ounce will count, especially if we can’t find the right horses,’ she added.

  ‘Very well, then I shall follow the race in my own carriage. I’m going to be there, Jane, I’m set on it.’

  ‘The road will be a mill,’ warned Jane. ‘The world and his wife will be following that race, maybe even the queen herself.’

  ‘I like mills.’ Blanche smiled. ‘I think this whole thing is a splendid idea and I wish I’d thought of it myself. Oh, it will be so good to see Henry trounced!’

  ‘To trounce anyone we’ll have to hope Lewis still provides the horses.’

  ‘I’m sure he will.’

  ‘I wish I could feel that confident,’ replied Jane. ‘Oh, well, I really must go. I want to tell Jacob and Betsy about Henry and his snooper. I thought about writing another note, but really I’d prefer to go there in person.’

  ‘How are you getting there? You’re surely not driving openly in your carriage.’

  ‘I shall have Thomas wait somewhere while Ellen and I take a hackney.’

  Blanche was aghast. ‘You’re actually going to hire a hackney?’

  ‘I’ve done it already and it was most disagreeable, but at least no one gives such vehicles a second glance.’ Jane smiled, tying on her bonnet. ‘Besides, this veil makes me exceeding anonymous, don’t you think? Oh, no! I’ve almost pulled one of the ribbons off!’

  ‘Shall I have a maid sew it back on for you?’

  ‘No, there isn’t time. It’ll be all right.’

  The wind tugged alarmingly at the bonnet as she left the house to rejoin the patient Ellen in the carriage, and for a moment it seemed the ribbon would give, but it didn’t, and soon they were being conveyed to the corner of Arlington Street in Piccadilly. Jane chose this spot because it was close to a long rank of waiting hackneys, and because there was so much noise and traffic that she wasn’t very likely to be particularly observed.