Lady Susan Plays the Game

by Janet Todd

  ‘I don’t know what magic you have enveloped me in, Lady Susan, but I know that my mind has been perverted by your wiles. I know now that, even while you were with us in Churchill, snaring us with your witchcraft – yes, witchcraft – all the while you were shamelessly corresponding with Mrs Manwaring’s husband.’ He mustered as contemptuous a look as he could and darted it at her. ‘I also know that he has just been here.’

  Lady Susan was startled: he saw that she was.

  ‘Yes, even the most trusted servants can be bribed.’

  ‘I cannot be responsible for who visits me,’ she began, but he continued to talk over her.

  ‘And all this when you were encouraging me as a lover, and I, deluded fool, actually wanted you to be my wife, to foist you on an ancient family who all well knew what you were. How close I came to destruction!’

  He could sit no longer. He was too agitated. He walked a few paces, then went on, ‘But I have escaped you, just in time. I am fortunate, but poor Mrs Manwaring – her sufferings are not over. And her daughter. All ruined by you.’

  This was an exaggeration. But it was no time for quibbling. ‘Reginald,’ she interrupted, ‘this is absurd.’

  ‘It is, madam, my weakness for you, my love for so artificial and conniving a creature is absurd, and I shall long rue the day.’ He had manoeuvred himself so that he was now dark against the bright window. ‘It is time to depart for ever.’ He moved towards the door.

  Lady Susan was still sitting. She had coped with too much in the last twenty-four hours and a profound weariness was coming over her. The time with Manwaring had been reinvigorating but she would perhaps have been better resting.

  She supposed she could still cozen Reginald, still bring him round if she tried. It was not certain but it was not impossible. She was used to playing what she thought a trump card at the tables and finding herself lost, but she was not used to this in love matters. Where words and gestures were required she knew her skill. And yet she supposed there were defeats, even in love. Would this be one?

  She doubted it need be so. But, if she did not require marriage and a great deal of money so urgently, she wondered if she would take the trouble she supposed she must take.

  Yet the more she needed Reginald de Courcy, the more she found herself resenting the fact. This ranting at her was tedious. Urgency or no, she was beginning to think she really could not be bothered. If she were not so drained, so very tired, she might have continued her course, she later thought. But for now she was simply sick of the game.

  ‘Mr de Courcy,’ she said as he paused at the door. ‘I am happy that you feel yourself so superlatively in the right and are so sure of your own position.’ She saw him start. Then she went on, ‘You have restored yourself to all the complacency of an only son and petted brother; your family will rejoice that you have been so obedient to their wishes and that the prodigal has returned to the fold.’

  He stared blankly back at her. He had never heard her speak this language before and could not immediately respond.

  She went on, ‘You will take comfort in following the prudence that has been marked out for you and recover your composure. I release you from an engagement you pressed upon me. I believe that I too will recover from the disappointment.’

  He flushed deeply, then turned white and dashed out to the street.

  He was in the carriage at once. In his pocket he still had the lock of Lady Susan’s hair that he had had set in a jewelled frame. He’d meant to tear it from his pocket and throw it on the floor in front of her.

  But there had been something about her that forbade violent gestures, something that went on humiliating him. He thought of those dove’s eyes in front of a serpent’s mind, those perfect lips from which he had drunk such poison. Hers had been the violence – the envenomed arrows, the barbed dart shot through his body. He squashed the miniature with his two hands till he bent the filigreed frame, then dropped it on the floor and crushed it with the heel of his boot. The jewels were scattered on the floor like tears and the hair unravelled at his feet.

  He lacked an outlet for his frenzied feelings. He must do something. He would go abroad and see what bright skies and a new climate would do for a shattered heart. But there was a war on and it was no moment for a grand tour. He should buy a commission and throw himself on to the battlefields of France. He would not be mocked for wanting to serve his country. And if he died in arms, well, what of it?

  But the thought of his poor father and mother whom he had already so grievously hurt stayed him. Their image put him in mind of his house and acres. Lady Susan had spoken slightingly of his position and his family. He would not let her triumph by hearing of his death. No, he would live to enjoy them in spite of that enchantress.

  He wondered about returning to Churchill to his sister and, he remembered with a jolt, Frederica. He had not mentioned her when he had listed her victims to Lady Susan, but surely her daughter was one of them, along with himself. Perhaps she was the saddest. She had cried to him for protection – and he had failed her. The poor child: she at least had known what her mother was. He would need to show how sorry he was for his blindness. He must make it up to her if they saw each other again.

  But he was not quite ready to face Catherine Vernon. He would instead return to Parklands, from which he had come so prematurely – and luckily – propelled by his then uncontrollable desire for Lady Susan. It would be humiliating of course to see his parents once more so soon but, in the general rejoicing at his escape, they would forget his rashness. His father lacked tact but Reginald could rely on his mother to rein him in as much as possible.

  After Mr de Courcy had flounced out – she used this word to herself for there was something effeminate in his grief – Lady Susan felt much in need of a few minutes of ordinary conversation. Barton would usually have done but she had no doubt it was her maid who’d betrayed her to Reginald, and she was not ready to chat with her just yet. She wanted Alicia Johnson, but couldn’t quite see how to get a message to her.

  But then, just as she was beginning to feel solitude weighing on her, the friend she most desired was announced.

  ‘I can stay only a moment,’ gasped Alicia, embracing Lady Susan. ‘Oh my dear, I am so sorry, what are you to do?’

  ‘Nothing at once I think. Mr de Courcy is dismissed. Don’t look like that Alicia – he really was too tiring.’ They were both silent. ‘But I cannot stay here much longer. I can’t run up further bills. Already the landlord is becoming restive. I see the look.’

  ‘That is a problem,’ Alicia Johnson agreed.

  ‘You know,’ said Lady Susan after a pause. ‘I am beginning to think the only course is to return to Churchill and get Frederica. The Vernons will not yet have heard from Reginald I imagine. If I have Frederica with me I can marry her at once to Sir James, assuming he’s in town, as I believe he must be.’

  ‘Indeed, I think he is, for he left his card at our house just after the others had gone. You can imagine that none of us was ready for more visitors.’

  ‘She would then be disposed of and my debts covered.’

  ‘You’re amazing,’ said Alicia Johnson. ‘What daring. But it’s only to be anticipated from you.’ She smiled broadly. She had not expected her friend to upbraid her – it was not her manner – but she’d thought there might be some coldness for her part in the recent uproar.

  ‘I suppose Charlotte brought Mary to town. Manwaring didn’t mention it.’

  ‘I believe so, the whole cohort, the formidable cousin as well. I think it was she who propelled Charlotte to our house. I doubt Charlotte would have acted like that alone.’

  ‘Most likely. With the Manwarings so at odds she probably wanted to secure her own comfortable life. Dear Manwaring was not one to cultivate people for his own interest.’

  Alicia Johnson prepared to leave. She kissed Lady Susan again. ‘Do write. I can’t offer you a home or even a place of refuge as you know, but I will do everything in my power to
help. There are other lodgings with other landlords and I can find them out and arrange everything.’

  ‘I’m not sure I want to be a gypsy,’ responded Lady Susan. She’d not told Alicia Johnson about the frustrations of Norfolk and, for the moment she was reluctant to start on the narrative of Sir Philip. Time for that later. ‘I still have a little money by me,’ she said.

  ‘But why dear Susan,’ said Alicia Johnson pausing at the door, ‘why did you not fix Reginald de Courcy? In the glimpse I had of him I thought him a very proper man, quite as handsome as your Manwaring – and free to boot.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ replied Lady Susan. ‘I’m not sure I know. One gets bored.’

  ‘You are so calm.’

  ‘No, I am not especially calm. I need to plan.’

  ‘Then I won’t detain you. But count on me to do whatever I can.’

  As soon as she was gone, Lady Susan sent for Barton and told her to prepare for a journey. Then she sent Jeffrey for a post-chaise. Within an hour they were on the road to Churchill.

  Mrs Vernon could not have been more surprised when Lady Susan came up the driveway in a hired coach and arrived at the door. When she had recovered from the shock, a deep gloom overcame her. Was this a wedding visit? But her visitor was alone. How strange.

  Frederica saw her mother in the hallway and feared for herself. Had she come with new plans for her daughter?

  ‘How happy I am to be with you all again,’ cried Lady Susan in her usual charming bustle. She smiled cheerfully on them, especially on Mr Vernon, who came forward to greet her. He alone managed to muster much of a responding smile. His sister-in-law was such a cheerful presence he found it hard to feel cross with her. Of course the marriage to Reginald was unfortunate and he felt for his wife in this matter but there was after all something a bit arrogant about his brother-in-law; Mr Vernon did not entirely dislike seeing him brought down just a little. The de Courcys were no grander than the Vernons but they gave the impression that they thought they were.

  ‘It is so wonderful to be back,’ said Lady Susan holding out her arms to embrace the whole family, ‘if only for a flying visit. I am come to see you of course, dear Mr and Mrs Vernon, but I am here above all for Frederica.’

  She smiled at her shrinking daughter. ‘She has done well I see – the country air suits her – but I must have her in London. I must have her with me,’ and with that she linked her arm in Frederica’s. ‘I have arranged a master for her and all manner of useful things.’

  Catherine Vernon was so taken aback that it was a few moments before she could venture to ask after her brother.

  ‘Indeed, Mr de Courcy is in town,’ exclaimed Lady Susan. ‘I have seen him recently.’ She smiled warmly on them.

  Mrs Vernon was more confused than ever. What could be happening? But surely – at least – they could not be married.

  Lady Susan had asked after her little favourite, and a sulky Freddie was now produced. She cooed over him, and gave him some sweetmeats she’d had Barton pack just as they were leaving. Then a few more general pleasantries while her daughter was instructed to collect her things with Barton’s help, and away they went.

  Frederica had been too shocked to put up resistance and, with no mention of Sir James and with her husband beaming on his sister-in-law, Catherine Vernon could think of no way to prevent the girl’s going with her mother. So, in a daze of not quite expressed misery, Frederica moved through the hallway while her box was tied firmly on the back of the carriage. A candle was burning by the doorway: what if it dropped a spark on her mother’s gown and set her alight? She wouldn’t then have to go. The thought flashed through her mind and was repressed at once.

  As they rolled out of sight, Catherine Vernon felt weak with amazement. There was some relief that her brother had not yet been ruined – that was obvious – but she was deeply upset for Frederica. She’d grown very fond of the girl and looked on her now rather as an eldest daughter. But there was nothing she could have done. Frederica’s reluctance could not stand against a mother’s determination. Anything the aunt said would have been brushed aside and the girl would have paid the price of the defiance. Her only comfort was that Lady Susan seemed at last to have dropped the scheme of marrying her daughter to the ridiculous Sir James. There had been no mention of him.

  Not long after Lady Susan and Frederica had left Churchill, a most pleasing and unexpected letter arrived for Mrs Vernon. It was from Reginald, short, rather stiff but conveying the very news she most wished to hear. She gave a little shriek of joy, then ran to find her husband.

  Charles Vernon shared enough of his wife’s emotion to satisfy her. But privately he was much amused at the news. Lady Susan had been with them so recently and had been so completely her usual self, so composed and so amiable, that it was hard not to marvel at what she’d been hiding. Frederica was a good girl and would make an excellent wife for someone; she was just learned enough to talk well and show interest in a man’s affairs, and she loved children. But she did not entertain like her mother. For a peaceable man like Charles Vernon, a spirited, beautiful lady, with – if truth were told – a little more conversational verve than his wife – was always a welcome presence.

  Chapter 23

  Back in town mother and daughter seemed to outsiders just as they had been when they’d first come to London from Someyton. Yet Lady Susan felt some alteration in Frederica, a slightly greater wariness. She suspected that the girl’s romantic notion of motherhood had received a dent while her idea of herself had developed in a most unhelpful way: she was just as insipid but, if the combination were possible, more definite in her insipidity.

  The new domestic arrangement was essential but troublesome. It was difficult to receive Manwaring. They were however in constant touch – through a drawing master. Lady Susan had hired him to teach Frederica to draw blooms rather than twigs (as she put it) and, conveniently, he was instructing Mary Manwaring as well. He expected little payment for his services in Upper Seymour Street since he was handsomely paid – separately – by both Mr and Mrs Manwaring. But letters were no compensation for the writer. Frederica was in the way and must be married to Sir James as quickly as possible for all their sakes.

  Lady Susan began her campaign at once. ‘I hope, Frederica, that your time lolling about at Churchill has convinced you how pleasant it is to be in a comfortable home.’

  Frederica went pale. She knew by now where this sort of remark would tend. Yes – no – neither reply would do. So she said nothing.

  Has the girl been born to vex me, wondered Lady Susan. ‘I can’t keep you for ever. You are too disobedient for a school even as a parlour boarder.’

  Lady Susan stopped. She realised she was waiting for Frederica to cry. It was her usual response to common sense. For a moment nothing happened, then Lady Susan observed the tell-tale convulsion. Why had there been a delay?

  Barton suspected her little act of disloyalty was known to her mistress. She had however not yet quite decided to leave Lady Susan and so, to ingratiate herself again, she now divulged the information that Mrs Manwaring was taking time off from grief to begin a fresh assault on Sir James. She had invited him round to their town house for an intimate evening in which they were all to show interest in horses and dogs. Barton did not say whether tears had been ordered for Miss Manwaring but new finery certainly had. ‘Parker, that is Mrs Manwaring’s lady’s maid,’ added Barton as she saw the query on Lady Susan’s face, ‘says they have taken delivery of a swansdown-trimmed bonnet from Bond Street as well as an emerald-coloured pelisse and half boots in …’

  Lady Susan was no longer listening. It was time to act quickly.

  Next day she summoned Sir James. He came at once. Yet, to her mind he seemed less impressed with Frederica than before. She feared he was tiring of her stricken looks and timid hostility. Nonetheless Lady Susan forced her daughter to sit in the same room and not hide in her bedchamber. As usual she hardly opened her mouth.

  Had
she a six month before her, Lady Susan felt sure she could cajole and force Frederica into attracting back Sir James. But the amount of money left from the last draft was diminishing, she could not expect to be replenished, and the events of the last weeks had so impressed her mind that she felt she lacked time for a long campaign. Now there was competition to consider as well. She herself would have to work – and speedily – to return Sir James to his old ardour. This would be better done without the girl. She had miscalculated in fetching her to London so soon.

  At this juncture Mrs Johnson made one of her clandestine visits. She brought unexpected news: the Vernons had arrived in town. She had it from her husband, who had it from – but it was unimportant.

  ‘Who would have credited that?’ exclaimed Lady Susan. ‘They can’t have brought their brats with them. That such a loving mother as Catherine Vernon should leave them alone in the country suggests how terribly she wants to thwart me.’

  They laughed together.

  ‘You are certainly beset, but you’ll find a way,’ said Alicia.

  The Vernons had indeed come to London. Catherine Vernon’s happiness at the escape of her darling brother had been tarnished by her fears for Frederica. These had grown as the days passed. She dreaded to think of the child at the mercy of so vile a mother. So at last she resolved that, whatever the sacrifice, they must go up to town. The little ones would be safe for just a few nights with Nanny. Her heart was torn at the idea of leaving them but she had a duty to her niece.

  Mr Vernon was used to being obedient in these sorts of matters. He agreed with his wife that he had business in the bank just at that moment.

  As soon as they were installed in Duke Street, Mrs Vernon waited on Lady Susan in her lodgings. She meant to find out the true state of matters concerning Frederica and prevent Sir James or any other unsuitable young man being imposed on her.

  Lady Susan returned her sister-in-law’s greeting with warmth. There was no one Lady Susan would rather see. It was wonderful Mrs Vernon was in town since she knew how much she preferred the country. Dear Frederica would be as delighted as her mother was. Mr and Mrs Vernon must join them for dinner in a few days’ time; they must be much together. Then she asked so kindly about the little Vernons that Catherine Vernon found herself replying with pride about Arabella’s dancing, Charlie’s strong teeth, and Freddie’s riding before she realised to whom she was speaking.