Lady Madeline's Folly

by Joan Smith

  "If he joins the family, it will not be as a liveried servant, but as something quite different," she replied, her good humor causing Eskott to regard her with the utmost suspi­cion.

  He looked for one long, incredulous moment, then threw his head back and laughed. "You ain't such a grudgeon as that, Maddie, to go hitching yourself to a provincial nobody, who must batten himself on your father. He has neither position, influence, money, nor even sufficient age to attract you."

  "I never had any preference for white hair, actually. Boys, you recall, were always my weakness."

  "You are sensible enough to have a preference for some­thing other than a fortune hunter, I hope?"

  "Oh yes, I am not slow to turn off all fortune hunters who cross my path."

  "You will be giving him his congé soon then, I expect."

  "Did you come here for the sole purpose of being dis­agreeable, Eskott? How thoughtful of you. You have done your duty now, and may leave with the knowledge that I am very angry with you."

  "I notice the green eyes are shooting emerald sparks. I have scored a hit, whether you acknowledge it or not. But annoying you was not my only reason for coming. I also want to crow a little. Wellesley's bid for the P.M.'s job was turned down flat. Looks as if Prinney is planning to dump the Tories after all, eh?"

  "Don't hold your breath waiting. A man could suffocate that way. There isn't more than a handful of you Whigs he wants—yourself, I might add, not amongst them. If he can't get the chosen few under Tory leadership, he won't bother with any of you at all. He will have done his token duty, and will settle down with the old boys for another millen­nium or so."

  "Ah yes, the gospel according to Saint Perceval," he said, striking his breast and lowering his head, as though at vespers. "Let me clue you in on the Brougham version. The Tories have all the power, while the Whigs have all the talent. It is only the prince's monumental stupidity that holds the country back. Of course when a man takes counsel from a lady, what is to be expected? I refer of course to the Old Lady of Manchester Square. Still, I expect your version is accurate, if more savage and cynical than one might expect from a female. The gentler sex, we besotted males consider you. I really don't know why. From Eve down to the present, you are always eager to outwit and betray us."

  "And it is so easy to do, too!" she said, smiling.

  While they were still talking, Henry Aldred arrived from having picked up some folders at Westminster. "Good after­noon, Eskott," he said pleasantly, after first making a bow to Madeline. "Your father wants me to bring him some documents he left at home, but he shan't need them till this evening. It looks like another night session coming up. I plan to answer these few letters for him before I go back."

  "Can you stay for dinner?" she asked, a smile of pleasure lighting her face.

  "I must be back by eight. If we eat early... But you are dining with the Earls this evening, are you not?"

  "I'll cancel that," she said.

  Eskott looked at her, dumbfounded. His little worries that she was beginning to take a more serious than usual interest in her new protégé were suddenly seen to be out of date. She was infatuated with him. The beaming smile that she could not hold in, the willingness to change her plans for him, the very air around the pair spoke of love.

  What the haughty beauty could see in the jackanapes was past imagining. A well-shaped head and a well-cut jacket—these were his advantages. She was no young, inexperienced girl either, but a lady who had been on the town long enough to know better. But she looked like a young girl today. A young, radiant girl, very much in love.

  "Can't you sit down and join us for a moment, Aldred?" Eskott invited, noticing from the corner of his eye Maddie's annoyance. She wanted him to leave, to get her lover to herself.

  "I am always happy to meet the opposition," Henry said lightly, taking up a seat. "I expect there is a deal of disen­chantment in your camp these days."

  "Because of the delay in bringing the Whigs into power, you mean?" Eskott asked, surprised, or giving a good sim­ulation of it.

  "Delay? He doesn't mean to bring you into power at all."

  "Is that the nonsense they have been feeding you here at the Second Court of St. James? Wait till February, when the restrictions on his powers expire. He'll have your set out so fast your heads will spin. I cannot imagine why any young man who wishes to get ahead would throw in his lot with the wrong party, especially when his relations have long been Whigs. Neville was very disappointed at your refusing his offer. He had big things in mind for you."

  Aldred looked interested, but with Madeline at his side he said the necessary things. "We'll hold, Eskott," he fin­ished, after a little repetition of the Tory gospel.

  Eskott laughed and shrugged his shoulders. "Time will tell whether you have not made a grave error. I only know Brougham has had the windows at Ten Downing Street measured for blue drapes, and ordered a new mattress to the bed, for he says he will not lie down in a Tory manger."

  "He's roasting you, Henry," Madeline explained. "Pay no heed to Eskott. He only came to annoy me. He has already confessed as much. And you have annoyed me quite enough for one day, milord."

  "Very well then, I shall behave, but I think it an abom­inable stunt you are playing on your cousin, leading him astray in this manner. They must be hiding all the more secret documents from you, Henry. Of course the Tories are famous for hiding the truth."

  "Is this your notion of behaving?" Madeline inquired.

  "My last outburst. I know when I am not wanted. Do you go to Sidmouth's ball this evening, Maddie?"

  "How late will you be working. Henry?" she asked, before giving him her answer.

  "Till nine-thirty or ten."

  "Then you will be finished in time to take me. You may look to the doorway around ten-thirty to see us making our grand entrance, Eskott. You are attending, I take it?"

  "Certainly I'll be there."

  "You could go with Lady Margaret, if you don't want to wait so late for me," Henry mentioned.

  "What, is Meggie in town?" Eskott asked.

  "Yes, she returned with us after the holiday. I really cannot imagine why. She doesn't go anywhere, but only stomps up and down halls and stairs, rattling the china and frowning at everyone."

  "I would like to say good day to her."

  "I think I hear her banging around now. Either that or we are being visited by an earthquake. I'll call her."

  When she left the room, Henry said, "I must get busy if I am to be finished with this work for Fordwich. But before I go—Neville was disappointed with my refusal, was he?"

  "Very much so. We all were, but you are comfortably ensconced in another nest now, and it wouldn't do for me to be poaching. Maddie has already rung a peel over me on that score."

  "I am only helping my cousin Fordwich, with a little of his correspondence. It's as much personal estate business as anything else, to leave him free for politics. He's so busy, it is the least I can do."

  "I think it a great waste of your time and talents to be nothing more than a scribbler, but then I'm sure you know what you are about," Eskott said, biting back a sharper rejoinder. Estate business was not conducted from West­minster.

  "My cousins have been so kind to me, you know, that I could hardly refuse to give Fordwich a hand when he asked."

  "Yes, I quite understand your position."

  Lady Margaret entered smiling. Henry left, and as Made­line did not return to the saloon, Eskott assumed she had joined her cousin in her father's study.

  "I haven't seen you in two years, Eskott. I hope you're keeping well? Have you time to join me for a cup of tea? Nasty cold weather we are having."

  "That would be nice. I had not heard you were in town, or I would have been here sooner to pay my respects."

  "I hadn't intended coming, but..." She stopped, with a worried glance to the doorway.

  "Is it Aldred that has you worried?"

  "Aldred and that foolish niece of mine. She is in
fatuated with him, Eskott. There is no other word for it."

  "Surely Fordwich does not go along with it?"

  "He refuses to see what is going on beneath his nose. I don't understand it, unless it is Aldred's telling him ten times a day he should be the next prime minister that ac­counts for it. That is sweet music to my brother's ears, you must know. He realizes it will never happen, but I think it has always been a secret ambition. Well, it is only natural; every man wants to rise to the top."

  "Some are not too exacting as to the devices they em­ploy," he said, with a meaningful look that had nothing to do with Fordwich, nor was Lady Margaret so slow as to think it had.

  "He is a self-seeking, unscrupulous man, Eskott. But family, cousins to us, that is how he got his foot in the door in the first place. Now he has got his entire body in with this business of acting as secretary to my brother."

  "Maddie suspects nothing?"

  "When you are in the state that poor girl is in, you see what you want to see. I could almost pity her, if I weren't so disgusted."

  "What do you figure is his aim, to use the family to get a good position, or to marry her fortune?"

  "Both. If it were only a job he was after, I wouldn't mind. Of course she is attractive; I don't say he don't like her, but certainly he is making use of her, using her con­nections to climb the ladder. If he found someone he liked better, or someone richer, I expect he would drop her with­out so much as a second thought."

  "There is a rumor he played a similar stunt on a young lady back home. I think I must investigate that matter more thoroughly. Maddie puts an innocent coloring on the inci­dent, but perhaps if he actually jilted a girl..."

  "She wouldn't believe a word of it if he did. You would have to put the girl under her nose to convince Maddie, and then she'd be more apt to believe Henry than the woman."

  "Perhaps I have been working on the wrong angle. I have been trying to discover his character by means of his politics. Just what exactly is it he does for your brother? What sort of work?"

  "Work connected with Fordwich's position on the Privy Council. He summarizes reports my brother hasn't time to read, writes letters for him, that sort of thing."

  "Nothing of a more personal nature? Estate business?"

  "No, no, the bailiff at the park attends to all that. He may scribble off an occasional note about something my brother wishes done, but it is mainly government work. In fact, he is paid by the government."

  "I see. I have just determined the fellow is a liar at least. He indicated quite the opposite to me—estate work, with a little politics thrown in."

  "I'll tell you who knows more about his private life than anyone is young Barker—the fellow they call Taffy Barker. He was visiting Aldred just before he came to London. He don't see much of Barker any longer, now that he is work­ing."

  "Taffy won't miss Sidmouth's ball. I'll make a point of having a chat with him."

  "You're going to a good deal of trouble, Eskott. Is there any special reason... ?"

  He looked at her with a rueful smile. "Does it show? After all these years, I thought I had learned to hide it. Even as an objective friend, however, I would like to help her. You don't abandon your friends when they are in danger. Such an ambitious man as Henry is dangerous."

  "You don't have to convince me. I think he is a positive menace, but she won't listen to reason. All I have done is turn her against me with my nagging. She won't feel kindly disposed toward anyone who shows Henry up for the scoun­drel he is either."

  "True, I must tread softly. The heart always rules the head, especially when the heart is in love, whatever that cliché means. I have come to associate it with another four-letter word: hell."

  "I'll go to Sidmouth's do tonight with them, to try to keep her feet on the ground. I do nothing but harp at the poor girl lately, but then she is acting very badly. She is with him this instant, I know, reading over his shoulder."

  "I wouldn't leave them too much alone."

  "I am not worried about seduction. She ain't that far gone that she has lost her morals. He is at pains to keep up the appearance at least of a gentleman. As Fordwich has not turned him off, he would not be thinking in terms of bolting to the border for a runaway match."

  "I wish he would suggest it. That would open up her eyes fast enough."

  "Don't count on it. I'll go and ask her to drive out with me. If I catch cold, it will be her fault, and I shall insist she dance attendance on me."

  "Good girl. I must be off now."

  Lady Margaret shook her head sadly at his retreating form. What dependence could be placed on a foolish girl who took up with that rattle of an Aldred, when she had a fine fellow like Eskott dancing at her skirts these five years—more. No dependence at all. She turned and walked swiftly toward the study door.

  * * *

  Chapter 8

  Lord Eskott sought out Taffy Barker at Lord Sidmouth's ball to see if he could discover anything amiss with Aldred's personal life. The necessary preliminaries regarding the state of their respective health and the fineness of the party were quickly covered.

  "Your friend, young Aldred, is rising fast in the world," Eskott said at length, glancing to the floor, where Henry was performing an exquisite bow to Madeline during the course of the cotillion.

  "Knew he had it in him," Taffy agreed. "Very capable, popular fellow at Christ Church. Best-liked man in his class. Don't believe he ever made an enemy."

  "A man who has not made a single enemy at his age must have a very obliging set of principles, ones that change with the company he keeps," Eskott said, making a joke of it.

  "Wouldn't say so," Barker answered, choosing to take offense at the jibe. "Haven't an enemy myself, so far as I know. Not what you'd call a real enemy. The Sanfords were put out with me that I didn't offer for Caroline, but as to enemies—no such a thing."

  "Rumor has it Henry left a lady behind crying willow when he left," was Eskott's next venture.

  "Anges Dannaher? Devil a bit of it. She was the one gave him the rush. That is to say, her uncle did it for her. Aldred ain't well inlaid, but he'll do. Do very well for himself. How'd you hear about Agnes? But you're a friend of Lady Madeline, of course," he went on, answering his own question.

  "Was he actually engaged to Miss Dannaher? You paid him a visit a while ago, if memory serves."

  "No, never got so far as an engagement. Hinted him away before he came up to scratch, you know. He wanted to court her, but it was frowned upon. They'd have been more than happy to have each other, but the old uncle thought he could do better for the gel. Daresay he will too, despite her looks."

  "Is she not well endowed? Physically, I mean."

  "Between you and me and the bedpost, Eskott, ugly as a badger. Nice, lively, entertaining gel, but plug ugly." He screwed up his face and shook his head to indicate his repulsion at the girl's looks. "Not that Henry could find a fault in her appearance. You never want to hint it in front of him."

  "Odd that he would have been dangling after an anti­dote."

  "Love is blind, folks say. Well, half of the county is blind to Agnes's looks, and the other half is female, if you see my meaning. The fellows are all trying their luck, but Henry definitely had the inner track, till the uncle came down hard. Forbid the match."

  "At Christmas?"

  "No, earlier. He had spoken of letting Agnes come up to town with Mrs. Aldred to visit Henry, but when Henry didn't land himself in the honeypot in London fast enough to suit them, nothing came of it. Henry had some hope when he left last month to visit home that the thing might be kept alive, but he don't mention Agnes now. I don't really know what happened. No denying Henry's taking his time settling into anything in the work line. Thought he'd be set up sooner than this. He's choosy though. Always was," Taffy said, then went on to more agreeable topics.

  "Hear Prinney's in the boughs with his old flirt, Brummell, again. Something to do with snuff and the Bishop of Winchester. Heard the details?"
<
br />   "Beau made a point of requesting the regent's servant to dump the remains of his box in the fire after the bishop helped himself to it without asking permission. The typical petty sort of bickering that occupies certain parties, who shall be nameless for fear of treason, when the affairs of state are in jeopardy."

  Each gentleman was eager to get away from the other. Eskott had no more interest in gossip than Barker had in more serious subjects. They each spotted another friend at the same instant, and used it as an excuse to part.

  Eskott was a little disappointed with what he had learned. In his own mind, Aldred was clearly a scoundrel, making up to an ugly heiress, and happy to be rid of her when he got his clutches on a pretty one; but alas, it was not con­sidered dishonorable to try to advance oneself in the world by means of a good marriage, providing the heiress's family was agreeable. He had not behaved badly enough to stand accused of real treachery. He was too sly for that. Even while these thoughts ran around Eskott's mind, the cotillion finished. He advanced toward the edge of the floor to intercept Madeline and Aldred as they came off.

  Before they reached him, they were accosted by another gentleman, who asked Madeline for the next dance. "I am tired to death," she answered merrily. "Henry and I are going to sit this next one out, and refresh our parched throats with champagne if we can find where Sidmouth is hiding it. I refuse to be fobbed off with that dreadful punch."

  To see her behaving so badly, so unlike herself, and particularly to see her show her marked preference for her cousin, caused Eskott to scowl. Glancing up, Madeline no­ticed Eskott staring at her.

  "Let us discover what has got dear Eskott in the hips tonight," she said to Henry, advancing toward him. "I expect Lady Susan is not paying you sufficient attention. Is that the trouble, Eskott?"

  "It seems the style tonight for ladies to be rude in refusing to stand up with the gentlemen."

  "Eskott always makes it a special point to disapprove of me," she explained to Henry in a playful way, while she clutched his coat sleeve.

  "Not always. Only recently have I found cause to dis­approve," he said bluntly.