Lady Madeline's Folly

by Joan Smith

  "I wouldn't mention Agnes to Lady Madeline just yet if I was you, Henry."

  "Why not?" he asked.

  "She won't like the notion of you thinking of marriage, when she is working on your career. She'll see it as too much distraction for you. Besides, there's nothing definite set between you and Agnes."

  "I was turned off, but as Leadbeater said Agnes might come to London with Mama for a few weeks... Well, I don't think he is unalterably opposed, though he has told me not to hope. Agnes too has told me I must consider myself quite free."

  "That's good then. Madeline will expect you to be her cavalier, in payment for her efforts on your behalf. Have to do the pretty, my boy. Let her drag you along to parties to show you off. Far as that goes, she'd be a great catch, if the thing with Agnes don't work. She don't equal Agnes in guineas and pence, but she's got a tidy fortune at her back. Good family connections too."

  "She wouldn't look twice at a provincial like me. I never much cared for older women anyway, to tell the truth. I prefer to wear the trousers in my house. Whoever she mar­ries, she'll have him petticoated inside of a month."

  "Doubt that. At least if Eskott ever gets a ring around her finger, she won't keep him tied to her apron strings. Daresay that's why she won't have him. Ain't biddable enough. Still, I reckon the right man could tame her."

  Aldred turned his head to look Barker in the eye. He opened his mouth to argue, then closed it again without speaking. Later he said, "About the jackets, Taffy, do you think Bath cloth?"

  This intriguing question occupied their attention for the drive to Old Bond Street.

  * * *

  Chapter 5

  Lady Madeline's friends received their first tantalizing glimpse of Mr. Aldred the day he called on his mentor sporting his new jacket.

  "You do Mr. Weston proud," she complimented him, her eyes flickering over his broad shoulders, approving the more sedate buttons than those he had worn previously. His somewhat garish flowered waistcoat had been tamed down to one of narrow stripes. The only matter in need of im­proving was his barbering, and hair could not be expected to grow to a proper length in half a week, even to please Lady Madeline. She suspected that if she could hint him into brushing it forward in the Brutus do, however, it would look much better. The question was—how to accomplish it without hurting his feelings.

  "Certainly you are as modish as Mr. Beau Brummell himself," she rattled on. "Why, if only your hair were brushed forward as he wears his, no one could tell the two of you apart."

  Taffy Barker, who was familiar with the diminutive dandy spoken of, started at so unlikely a comparison, but Henry was familiar only with the name, and knew it for the top of the trees. He cast a knowing eye on his cousin, held her gaze for a long moment, challenging her. They both broke into a smile at the same time.

  "Your dilemma, I see, is to get my hair forward without getting my back up," he said.

  "Precisely! Do let's try it. Taffy, have you a comb?"

  Taffy was as well supplied as a lady with the accoutre­ments of fashion. He not only had a comb in his pocket, but performed the task required. When he had finished, Made­line took the comb from him to put the finishing touches on the coiffure herself. She smiled softly, to see Henry's cheeks suffuse with color at this intimate task. The curls arranged to her satisfaction, she took his arm and walked him to the mirror. "Now, tell me I was right," she ordered.

  He gave one quick, disparaging look at his image and turned away. "I look like a sissy," he mumbled, but he seemed resigned to the change.

  "You look extremely handsome. In fact, I want to show you off. Will you drive with me in the park?"

  "Taffy has his sporting carriage. We came in it. It only holds two," Henry explained.

  "Taffy won't mind if I borrow you for a few hours, will you, dear Taffy?" she asked with a conning smile. "I'm sure he has something else he can do."

  Taffy was sensitive enough to realize he had been hinted out of her carriage, which could carry the three of them very easily, with room to spare. "Matter of fact, I have to settle up at Tatt's today," he answered readily.

  To reward him, she invited him to join a waltzing party she had arranged for later in the week. This new dance was not yet accepted at such prudish establishments as Almack's, but it was gaining momentum, whirling merrily at the edges of society. When it was done by everyone, there would be no cachet in performing it. Lady Madeline liked to be in the front lines of fashion. Henry, of course, was invited as well.

  In the park, she had her carriage stopped at the barrier, to present a few select persons to her cousin. The response to him, most particularly the feminine response, was all she could have wished for. She let him preen and smile, till one of the bolder girls invited him to call on her, at which time she remembered she had to rush home and write a few letters.

  "What are you and Taffy doing tonight?" she asked, as he left her at her door.

  "I shan't tell you. You won't like it," he replied with a teasing smile.

  "Gambling?" she asked swiftly.

  "No. Taffy is presenting me at the Green Room, at Covent Garden," he answered boldly. "All we debs have to make our bows, you know, Cousin. A brushing acquain­tance with the demimonde is part of a gentleman's educa­tion. It is kind of you to sponsor my worthier pursuits, but a man needs some fun too."

  "So you don't enjoy my company," she returned, in the same teasing spirit. If he had thought to scandalize this seasoned lady, he was sadly out. The only surprise in it was that he should be making his bows at so late an age. This was more normally done during university days.

  "Certainly I do. And I appreciate your efforts too, even if I have been a savage in the matter of rendering proper thanks."

  "You are coming along very nicely," she replied, patting his fingers as though he were a child.

  "I have an excellent teacher. Also a very pretty one," he said with a bow. Then he raised her fingers to his lips and touched them before taking his leave.

  She was happy with his progress in his dual duties of refining himself and developing his amatory techniques. She sent out notes to her waltzing party, arranged for musicians and a dancing master. On the day of the party, she received, along with her usual stack of invitations, a brief note from Captain Hopper, asking if she had had any response from her inquiries on his behalf. Chagrined, she tried to remember whether she had ever gotten around to actually posting the letter she had written. After searching her desk, she discovered she had not. She dashed off another, mentioning there was some urgency in the matter, and set it aside for her father to frank when he returned. Then she gave herself over to preparations for the dancing lesson.

  She remarked, as her guests came trickling in, how her friends from the past had changed. The girls with whom she had made her debut seven years ago had aged dreadfully. Anna had put on ten or twenty pounds, and Isabelle looked a positive frump. It was marriage and raising a family that did it, she supposed, but was annoyed with them all the same. She was happy she had included some younger ladies, met over the years as they were presented. One of these bold chits took the idea she would be Henry's partner in the dancing lesson, till Lady Madeline took her firmly by the arm and handed her over to Taffy Barker.

  "I've tried this a few times before, Henry," she said. "I shall give you the benefit of my experience." The use of first names had been established the day before, during one of his visits.

  "You are very kind. And after I have had the benefit of your experience, I should like the benefit of an introduction to the charming young lady you have handed over to Taffy. You forgot to introduce us, Madeline. Something new, for me to be giving you a lesson in propriety."

  "You would not be interested in her. She is practically engaged to another fellow. Are you looking about for a wife?"

  "Not at all, but most of the ladies at your do are older," he said, looking over the selection with very little interest.

  The dancing master, a clamorous Italian, called t
he class to order, making it unnecessary for her to reply. The party was not so enjoyable as she had hoped. Anna Willoughby asked her who "the young fellow" was.

  "My cousin," she replied, disliking the emphasis on young.

  "I was sure he must be. It is kind of you to have thrown a party to introduce him to a few of the coming debs, but I cannot think it necessary. Taffy will be sure to parade them all before him. Has he any fortune?"

  "Nothing significant."

  "Pity."

  Eskott chose that day for one of his fleeting, unannounced visits. He arrived after the lesson was over, and the guests were refreshing themselves with tea. He took one look into the room and turned to leave, but Madeline spotted him and waved. As he still did not enter, she went to him.

  "My feelings are in tatters. Why was I not invited to this interesting debauch?" he asked.

  "I made sure you would be much too busy laying snares to trap your enemies."

  "How is the sow's ear coming along?" he asked, scanning the throng for Henry.

  "Judge for yourself," she replied, nodding her head in his direction.

  "I see you have got him into a well-tailored jacket at least. Now if only you could lighten that unfortunate country complexion—or is he blushing? Yes, I do believe the chit with him is flirting her head off."

  She looked quickly to see what girl her cousin was with, and felt a definite pique to observe it was the one he had complimented earlier. "They are all running mad for him," she said airily. "But then he is very handsome."

  "Handsome is as handsome does."

  "How do you invent these original phrases? Don't forget to mention that clothes make the man."

  "I can't agree with you there, or I would have to admit we were both made by the same maker. Have you got him a position yet?"

  "No, but he's about ready now. Can I get you some tea?"

  "Not this time. I didn't realize you had company. I'll dash along and check my snares." He bowed and left, and Madeline darted back to Henry. She was just in time to hear him explain to the girl that he would offer to drive her home, but unfortunately he didn't have his carriage with him.

  "Of course, if you had set up a decent carriage as I told you to, you could have had the pleasure of taking Miss Armitage home," she told him after the girl left. It was some consolation when he agreed, reluctantly, that he really needed a carriage.

  With Taffy's help, he soon had one. Within ten days of his arrival in London, he was indistinguishable from a gentleman who had been on the town for years. More im­portantly, he was quick to grasp the nuances of his future career. He could speak with the informed now about the prince's tardiness in throwing out the Tories and bringing in his old friends, the Whigs, from the wilderness of the opposition. This was seen as an excellent sign.

  "It looks very hopeful for our chances," he commented to Lord Tilsit, whom he met in Lady Madeline's saloon one morning.

  "It is," Tilsit agreed, "but then he will not come into full powers till February. The Regency Bill has him tied wing and leg for the duration of a year. Come February, I fear we will see the change."

  "I do not despair by any means," Fordwich countered. "He has the power now to be rid of us if he wished. We can count on the total support of Lady Hertford and her set. They carry a good deal of influence with him."

  "Too much," Tilsit said with a sagacious nod.

  "What do you think of this notion of making up a cabinet including some of the more illustrious Whigs, combined with our own brighter luminaries, in the manner of the old Government of All the Talents?" Aldred asked. "Yourself, Lord Tilsit, and Lord Fordwich of course," he added.

  This piece of flattery was not taken amiss. "Harumph," Tilsit said, "he only wants Sheridan and Moira out of the Whig camp, if the truth were told. If we could convince that pair to join us, the matter would be settled, but one might as well expect a fish to fly."

  "In the case of Sheridan, the fish is more likely to drink than fly," Madeline said. "He was completely foxed at the theater last night."

  "As to that," her father opined, "birds of a feather roost together. The prince is now taking a deal of laudanum as well as wine, from what I hear."

  "But do you think the Whigs would agree to a combined cabinet?" Aldred asked, taking every interest in these es­oteric details.

  "Not with Perceval driving the coach," Fordwich said with strong feeling. "They would not sit still for it, so what's the point of conjecturing? They loathe and despise the man. So does the prince, of course. My own feeling is that one-half of our problem is Perceval. If we had a different prime minister than the prince's old enemy, there would be no more talk of throwing us out."

  "Why does no one hint to Perceval that his resignation would be acceptable?" Aldred inquired, mystified. "Surely he must put the good of the party before his own career?"

  "Who will enter the lion's den on such an errand?" Tilsit asked in a rhetorical spirit, for he knew no one would, including himself.

  Fordwich could not long remain with his guests. A page came from Westminster with a dispatch box. "I had best look this over in private," he said, excusing himself.

  When he was gone, Tilsit turned to Aldred. "You take a keen interest in politics, sir," he began. "It is encouraging to see the younger generation so well informed. If you should decide to go the next step and enter the fray, call on me. I could use a bright young man at this busy time. In fact, there may be a seat coming up in one of the boroughs I control."

  Madeline's face lit up with delight. She glanced at Henry, who was regarding Lord Tilsit, his expression undecided. "That is very kind of you, sir," she said, when Aldred failed to make any verbal answer. "My cousin is indeed interested in becoming actively engaged in politics.

  "Good. Then I look forward to seeing you soon. Now I must be off. Good day."

  When he was gone, Madeline turned to Aldred, annoyed by his lack of enthusiasm at the offer. "Why did you not get it settled at once?" she asked.

  "He mentioned a seat, my becoming an M.P. That would cost a great deal, waging a campaign, and then there is no money in it either."

  "It wouldn't cost you a penny. The seat he spoke of is a rotten borough, consisting of a barn and a couple of hen houses. It is his to give. There would be no expense."

  "No, nor any salary either, after it has been accom­plished. He is looking for a free clerk."

  "My dear boy," she said, shaking her head at his naiveté, "there are perquisites aplenty. An appointment to some po­sition in the royal household could be arranged, to give you an annuity without increasing your workload a cubit. It is done all the time."

  "It is not done by the opposition, but by the government. It is unclear yet that our party will remain long in power."

  "Better take it now then, while they are in power, to make the appointment. For that matter, Tilsit first mentioned a different sort of job. He said he could use some help— a sort of secretary I expect is what he had in mind."

  "That is more interesting at the moment."

  "Go to see him then, today. Don't waste a moment."

  "I don't know that I would like being a secretary, to spend my days crouched over a desk, composing letters."

  "You can hardly expect to start at the top, Henry. It is like anything else; you must work your way up."

  "I shall think about it."

  "Good. I want you to think about something else too. Christmas. We are going home to Highgate Hall for the holiday. I would like you to join us. We are inviting a party of very influential people whom it would be helpful for you to know. The Castlereaghs will be there, Liverpool, and others. We leave three days before Christmas, and return at the start of the new year."

  "I had planned to go to my own home for Christmas," he told her. "It is very kind of you, but my family will be expecting me, you know, and I cannot like to disappoint them."

  "I assume they are reasonable. They sent you to London to find a position. They will not expect you to throw this excell
ent opportunity away, only for a family visit. Go and visit them after you have got yourself established, Henry. You must make a few sacrifices for the sake of your career."

  None of her other protégés had hesitated to grasp the plums she held out to them. Yet there was some merit in his objection. He needed money, so a fairly demanding job with no salary was not the best one for him. Court appoint­ments took time and were uncertain now, with the govern­ment's fate in the balance.

  For a son to wish to spend Christmas with his family was hardly to be condemned either, even though it was unwise. He was a curious blend of the sentimental and the practical, she decided. And whichever side he showed her, she found it attractive. She liked to go out in public with him, and watch her friends stare. She knew Henry was attracted to girls. She saw how his lips lifted when they cast their sheep eyes at him. It always angered her, and intrigued her too, that he did not step up his courting of herself.

  He was unfailingly polite, a little gallant, but he was not smitten. He casually mentioned outings with other women, without looking to see if she minded. Perhaps that was his greatest charm for her—that she was not certain of him.

  She occasionally mentioned finding him a well-dowered wife, to remove the burden of his lack of funds. She even had her eye on a few suitable heiresses, but was curiously reluctant to put them forward. Her Christmas party, for instance, could very well include Miss Anita Gresham and her mama, but she had no real intention of inviting them. She looked forward to the party with a good deal of pleas­urable anticipation. There would be time to get to know Henry better, more intimately, to spend some hours with him at pursuits other than career-oriented ones.

  "I shall write to Mama, but if she insists, you know, Maddie, I cannot disappoint her."

  "Your sentiments do you credit, but if she is as wise and as interested in your future as I think she is, she will urge you to come to Highgate with me."

  "Don't count on it. She likes to keep me tied to her apron-strings. She has that in common with you, Cousin."