The Major and the Country Miss

by Dorothy Elbury

  Georgianne, who had, long since, reached the conclusion that she would not care to trust the sickeningly over-confident Mr Fenton any further than she was able to throw one of the marble busts that stood on the hall plinths, took hold of her friend’s hand and regarded her searchingly. ‘Are you certain that this is what you want, Steffi?’ she asked.

  ‘Of course it’s not what I want!’ exclaimed Stephanie, angrily tugging her fingers away from Georgianne’s clasp and turning her head away. ‘I want to marry a duke or an earl and have a huge society wedding in Hanover Square! I want to host huge balls in my own grand mansion and be the envy of every female in the ton, but—for the moment, at any rate— I shall have to make do with a clandestine affair in some shabby back-street registry office!’ Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. ‘It’s so unfair!’

  ‘But if you are so unhappy about the whole thing, why are you so determined to carry on with it?’ queried her bewildered friend.

  ‘Oh, Georgie, you will never understand,’ said Stephanie, with a weary shake of her head. ‘I just can’t put up with this same boring humdrum existence for another minute. I simply have to get away—if I stay here any longer, I shall run quite mad!’

  Privately, Georgianne was on the verge of thinking that her friend had already run mad but then, as she contemplated the succession of long dreary days ahead of her once Maitland had departed, she began to feel a good deal more sympathetic towards her friend. Whilst it was true that Stephanie was simply in love with the idea of life in high society—which could in no way compare with her own feelings for Will—she had no difficulty in relating to her friend’s utter despair.

  ‘Perhaps Aunt Letty’s ball will help to cheer you up a little,’ she said, trying to coax a smile from Stephanie’s gloomy face. ‘I am sure that your lovely gown will far outshine any of the others on display and—who knows— it’s just vaguely possible that your elusive earl might turn up, after all. One should never give up hope, you know!’

  ‘You really are the best of creatures, Georgie,’ replied the slightly mollified Stephanie, immediately struck with the idea that, in her magnificent ballgown, she would undoubtedly be the Belle of the Ball—not that she had ever supposed otherwise, of course, but still…! ‘How you can carry on day after day, sticking to the same boring old routine, I will never understand.’

  ‘I don’t actually find it all that boring,’ returned Georgianne, somewhat defensively. ‘I have my riding and I usually manage to fill my days quite productively. Added to which, it isn’t every day that one gets to help organise such a big affair as Saturday’s promises to be!’

  ‘Well, if you want my opinion,’ said her friend in reply, turning back towards the house, ‘you would do far better taking more of an interest in sorting out your own outfit than concerning yourself with such mundane matters as floral arrangements and candle quantities!’ she then added, as she followed her friend through the side door.

  Once inside the house, however, it appeared that something of a heated argument was going on between some of the younger guests and their elders and no sooner had Georgianne put her nose round the drawing-room door than she was immediately dragged into the room by her cousin Delphine, a plump and pretty seventeen-year-old.

  ‘Georgianne and her friend Miss Highsmith are sure to want to go!’ declared the girl, with all the confidence of youth.

  ‘Go where?’ asked her cousin, mystified. But then, finding herself surrounded by a bevy of excited youngsters, each of whom was intent upon having his or her say, she placed both hands over her ears, crying, ‘Do stop, please! One at a time, I beg of you!’

  ‘They are trying to rake up your support to attend tonight’s assembly at the Dun Cow in Dunchurch,’ volunteered Catford, in the ensuing silence. ‘Ma did wonder whether it might not be a bit too close to Saturday’s proceedings, but some of the youngsters are quite determined. What do you think, Georgie?’

  ‘The Dun Cow?’ repeated Georgianne, a sudden spurt of excitement coursing through her body. But then, as common sense prevailed, she shook her head doubtfully. ‘An assembly? I shouldn’t have thought—’

  ‘Oh, yes!’ cried Stephanie, clapping her hands. ‘The very thing! Do let us go, Georgianne!’

  Georgianne looked across to her aunt, a question in her eyes. In reply, the countess simply smiled and gave a slight shrug. ‘How many of you would like to attend?’ she then enquired.

  Seven or eight hands were immediately raised, which, as Georgianne quickly realised, comprised almost the entire group of youngsters present—those of an eligible age that was, since anyone under the age of sixteen would not be permitted entry to a public gathering.

  ‘Fairly unanimous, I’d say!’ chortled the young Lord Berkeley, a cousin from her uncle’s side of the family.

  ‘But you will need chaperons and carriages,’ complained his mother, the Countess Darrowby. ‘And I, for one, am not of a mind to spend the evening sitting in some stuffy assembly room, listening to a motley assortment of village fiddlers scraping away!’

  As several of the other mothers leaned forwards to declare their support for the countess’s declaration, Georgianne turned towards Catford, hoping for some guidance in the matter.

  ‘Well, the carriages certainly ain’t a problem,’ he observed. ‘And, I dare say I could drag myself there, if I had to. Ought to have at least one of you ladies in attendance, though,’ he added pointedly, casting a frowning glance around the room.

  An embarrassed silence followed until his grandmother, a very elderly dowager, let out an exasperated ‘tsk!’ and grunted, ‘It looks as though it had better be me then, I suppose!’

  ‘Bless you, Grandmama!’ twinkled Catford, while three of the girls rushed to the old lady’s side, threw their arms around her neck and showered her with kisses.

  ‘Away with you all,’ she chuckled, flapping her hands at them. ‘And, you need not think that just because I am getting on in years, I am likely to turn a blind eye to any shenanigans, for my eyesight is as good now as it has ever been, so you had all better be on your best behaviour!’

  ‘Oh, we will, we will!’ came the effusive chorus from her youthful descendants.

  ‘Well, if I am to stay up half the night,’ remarked the dowager, rising to her feet with surprising alacrity for one of her advanced years, ‘I had better get my head down for a couple of hours.’ Then, making her way towards the door, she flung over her shoulder, ‘I dare say this change of events will herald an early dinner, Letty?’

  ‘I shall attend to it directly, Belle-mère,’ replied the countess, in reply to her mother-in-law’s query. ‘Five o’clock would suit, I should imagine.’

  Riding into the coaching yard at the end of another unsatisfactory day spent searching for the elusive Étienne Billingham, Maitland was surprised to find the place thronged with an unusually high number of assorted vehicles. Upon enquiring of Pete Andrews the reason for all this activity, he learned that it was all to do with the assembly that the Dun Cow held on the last Thursday of every month.

  ‘A lot of the guests drive in from the outlying villages and prefer to stay overnight,’ volunteered the ostler, as he took hold of Pegasus’s halter while Maitland swung himself down from the horse’s back.

  Local assemblies being of very little interest to Maitland, he gave an indifferent shrug and asked, ‘I suppose you don’t happen to know if Mr Fenton has returned?’

  It having been his normal practice to rap heavily on his cousin’s door in order to drag him from his slumbers, he had been rather taken aback to discover that the Honourable Jeremy appeared to have forestalled him. Hurrying down to the dining room, in anticipation of finding his cousin tucking into what, by this time, had become his customary hearty breakfast, Maitland had been met by one of the waiters, who had handed him a note from the mysteriously absent Fenton. In it, his cousin, apologising for leaving Maitland to carry on with the search without him, had explained that he had a rather pressing matter to attend to
and would, no doubt, catch up with him again at dinnertime!

  ‘Drove in some time ago,’ said Andrews, in response to Maitland’s question. ‘Got quite annoyed with me when I told him that I’d have to put his carriage on one of the back lots—need to keep the front clear for these overnighters, y’see.’

  Naturally, the ex-sergeant was not about to divulge the fact that this particular arrangement had been at Matty Skinner’s behest, in order that the crafty devil might be in the best position to select his next potential victim. Instead, since he was growing more and more anxious about the possibility of discovery, he enquired as to how much longer Maitland expected to remain in the area.

  Given that, following today’s fruitless journeying, he had picked just about every churchman’s brain and thoroughly exhausted every possible venue for miles around, Maitland, as reluctant as he was to admit it, was beginning to find himself very close to giving up the quest altogether. He was fast coming to the conclusion that either Mr Hornsey had misheard his client’s mumbled instructions or that Uncle Roger’s memory had, rather unsurprisingly, after all these years, failed him.

  He pursed his lips, considering the stableman’s question. Then, ‘Probably some time early next week,’ he responded, with a decisive nod, having realised that it would be quite out of the question for him to leave before the Greshams’ ball—not forgetting the following morning’s ride he had promised himself! ‘Have you finally made up your mind to accompany me, then? A very wise decision, in my opinion.’

  ‘I doubt if I’ll get a better offer, Major!’ responded Andrews, with a quick look over his shoulder in order to ascertain that this rather unusual conversation between himself and one of the hotel guests had not been overheard. Then, eyes alight with gratitude, he added, ‘Very much obliged to you, sir!’

  Lifting his hand in dismissal of the man’s thanks, Maitland gave a quick nod and turned to follow the highly excited group of newcomers that was presently making its way into the hotel’s rear entrance. Clearly, he thought to himself, with a wry grimace, it looks set to be a pretty noisy evening!

  Fenton, who had been sitting in the taproom, nervously contemplating his next move, leapt up eagerly as soon as Maitland stepped through the doorway.

  ‘Extremely sorry to leave you in the lurch today, Will,’ he said, as he signalled to a passing waiter and pulled out a chair for his cousin to join him. ‘Had a rather pressing matter to attend to.’

  ‘More money problems, Jerry?’ returned Maitland, offering his cousin a sympathetic smile. ‘Haven’t I told you to come to me, if you find yourself in difficulty?’

  ‘That’s very true,’ acknowledged Fenton. ‘Dashed handsome of you, too, in the circumstances. As a matter of fact,’ he then went on, his cheeks reddening slightly, ‘I could do with a small loan—a couple of hundred— if you could manage to lay your hands on that amount?’ It was all very well for Stephanie to come up with this mad idea about elopements and such, he thought morosely, but these things didn’t come cheap!

  ‘Consider it done, old man,’ said Maitland, with a careless grin. ‘I’ll write you out a banker’s draft and you can take it across to the Town & County first thing in the morning.’

  ‘I swear I’ll return it as soon as I’m in funds again, dear chap,’ Fenton assured him fervently.

  ‘Don’t fret yourself, Jerry,’ replied his cousin, turning his attention to the foaming tankard of ale that the waiter had placed in front of him. ‘It’s of no consequence.’

  There followed a few minutes silence as the two men sipped at their drinks then, ‘I forgot to ask you how you got on today, Will,’ said Fenton. ‘Drew the usual blank, I imagine?’

  Maitland nodded. ‘It’s beginning to look as if the old fellow must have made a mistake in the location of this blessed convent or nunnery, or whatever. No one around here has ever heard of such a place. There seems to be nothing for it but to go back to Hornsey and admit defeat.’ He looked across at his cousin, his eyes full of concern. ‘’Fraid that does mean that you’re going to have to wait a full year before you can get your hands on any of Uncle Roger’s blunt, old man. Is that going to pose a problem for you?’

  Fenton gave a non-committal shrug. ‘Dare say I might be able to weather the storm,’ he replied. As soon as Stephanie’s old lady comes up with the dibs, that is! he told himself reassuringly.

  ‘Think I’ll go on up,’ said Maitland, quaffing back the last of his drink and rising to his feet. ‘This place is getting a bit too crowded for my liking. I see that they’re serving dinner in a smaller side room, so I don’t think I’ll bother—maybe just have a tray of bread and meat sent up and then try to get an early night. It’s been a tiring day and I’m pretty well done in.’

  ‘Doubt if you’ll get much sleep when all the racket from the assembly room gets going,’ replied his cousin, getting up to join him. But then, as a sudden thought struck him, he asked eagerly, ‘You don’t suppose any of the crowd up at Gresham Hall is likely to attend a function like this, do you?’

  Maitland shook his head. ‘Shouldn’t think so for one minute,’ he returned.

  Chapter Fourteen

  In the event, the landlady’s plentiful selection of meats and cheeses remained scarcely touched as Maitland, reaching out for the bottle of brandy he had ordered along with his meal, refilled his glass for the third time and moodily lounged back in his armchair.

  He wished to God that he had never allowed himself to be dragooned into volunteering his services for what had turned out to be, in all respects, a complete wild- goose chase. And, if that were not sufficiently demoralising, he thought, savagely, as he tossed back yet another mouthful of the fiery spirit, there was the added ignominy of having fallen head-over-heels in love with a girl who was, without doubt, the future intended of one of his dearest friends!

  Having spent much of the day puzzling over why the pair seemed so set on preserving what was, to him, a rather unnatural silence about their attachment, he could only suppose that they were acting in accordance with some ancient family ritual or other that obliged them to wait for an official announcement. And, having followed this line of reasoning to what seemed to him to be the most logical end—given that the matrimonial intentions of the heir to the title were likely to be of considerable interest to a good many of the landed gentry in the area—he had arrived at the conclusion that the coming Saturday’s ball would make an ideal occasion for such an announcement. All the more reason for him to cry off, he chastised himself, although he knew that he could no more do that than fly to the moon. As he had told Georgianne, it was not in him to admit defeat until every vestige of hope was gone—a quality that had always served him well enough in his days with the military, but one which, in the present circumstances, looked set to be of no use whatsoever!

  The clatter of carriages pulling up to the hotel’s front entrance brought him to his feet in an instant. Muttering imprecations under his breath, he strode over to the open window, intending to latch it shut against the worst of the noise. But then, as he focussed his somewhat bleary eyes on the two vehicles just below, he immediately snapped to attention. Gresham carriages, by Jove! And who should be stepping down from the first of them than the very subject of his melancholic reverie!

  Carefully placing his still half-full glass back on the table, he walked across the room to the marble washstand, poured the entire contents of the jug into the washbowl and thrust his head into it, gritting his teeth as the chill of the water crept up over his ears.

  The cold ducking having left him a good deal more alert than he had been five minutes previously, he towelled himself off briskly and, flinging open the wardrobe door, dragged out his dress-clothes. Ten minutes later, he was standing in front of his mirror, wrestling with a third attempt to arrange his necktie to his satisfaction and thanking a divine providence for the hotel’s excellent laundry service!

  His hair still slightly damp, he flew down the stairs to join the bustling crowd of noisy revel
lers that was presently making its way into the assembly room, the larger of the hotel’s two dining rooms wherein, as he was soon able to see, the tables and chairs had been arranged around the walls in order to leave the centre of the floor clear for dancing.

  Since there was still a good deal of movement going on around him, it was some little time before he managed to spot the Gresham party and he was somewhat taken aback to see that his cousin, Fenton, was already engaged in a deep conversation with Stephanie Highsmith. Doing his best to appear totally nonchalant, Maitland strolled across to the group and, with a courteous bow, paid his respects to the dowager countess.

  ‘I must confess that I hardly expected to find you frequenting such a mediocre gathering, ma’am,’ he said, endeavouring to keep his eyes off Georgianne, who looked quite entrancing in a simple chiffon gown of the palest green and her hair, as he was delighted to note, still dressed in the new softer style.

  ‘I hardly expected to be here myself until a couple of hours ago,’ replied the old lady, giving him what he could only describe as a rather searching look. ‘But, the young folk would have it and, since it would seem that every one of my cow-hearted relations considered themselves far too high in the instep to put in an appearance, here, as you see, I am, young man!’

  ‘For which I am quite certain that your young ladies are most grateful,’ he said gallantly. ‘Do I have your permission to solicit a dance with one or other of them?’

  ‘Help yourself, Mr Maitland,’ she chuckled, waving him away with her fan. ‘Although, I dare say you might find that one or two of them are a little on the young side for you!’

  ‘Not too young to dance with, I assure you, ma’am,’ he grinned, as he turned to greet Catford who, having selected a nearby seat, was presently doing his best to assure two of his pretty young cousins that he was perfectly content to sit and watch, while they took to the floor.