“Yes, ma’am, and there will be no rest tomorrow, either. Her Majesty is holding court to welcome the hereditary grand duke of Russia. She has planned numerous activities for him through the weekend, too.”
“Yes, I know,” Daintry said. “Your father decided that we should pay our respects to the grand duke, and then go right on to Oxford. He is certain that the present government cannot last much longer, and Wellington and Sir Robert have asked him to stand ready to help form a new one at a moment’s notice. Nothing can happen before Monday, of course, but he has decided that if he is to indulge my wish to visit Gideon, we must go at once.”
“I wish I could go with you,” Letty said, “but …” She spread her hands.
“I know, darling.” Daintry regarded her silently for a long moment, and Letty’s lips and mouth suddenly felt parched. It was all she could do not to fidget. Then her mother said gently, “Your father wanted to speak to you earlier, you know, but I prevailed upon him to wait.”
“I … I know,” Letty said. “I know he is displeased with me. Both of you must wonder …”
When she paused, uncertain how to put her chaotic thoughts into words, Daintry said, “He was a little shocked by the way you spoke to him. But he can be patient when he believes it wise to be, and I persuaded him that he must trust you to deal with that very handsome young man in your own way. Nevertheless, darling, you were disrespectful, and you must apologize to him before you leave for the palace in the morning.”
“Yes, ma’am, I will,” Letty said, thankful to have got off so lightly.
Bidding her mother good night, she went to her room and prepared for bed, certain that she would fall asleep at once. Instead, her thoughts continued to dwell for some time on the events at the Upper Brook Street house, and the scene with Raventhorpe at the palace.
She slept at last, though, and when she awoke, Jenifry was opening the curtains. Sunlight streamed through the windows. A tray with Letty’s morning chocolate sat on the table near the door, steam rising from the little pot’s spout.
“Good morning, miss; ’tis a fine bright day today,” Jenifry said.
“Is his lordship up and about?”
“He’s in the breakfast parlor,” Jenifry said.
“Then I will dress. I don’t want my chocolate, Jen.”
Twenty minutes later, she entered the sunny breakfast parlor to find the marquess alone, reading one of the morning newspapers. He set it down and rose to greet her with a hug and a kiss.
“I like that dress,” he said.
“Thank you, sir. I came to apologize for speaking to you as I did yesterday.”
“You’re lucky I was in a mellow humor, ducky. Your mother says that I am not to ask you any questions about that scene I interrupted, but I must tell you, I did not like seeing that young man frown at you like he did. Had you given him cause?”
“Yes, sir.” Letty said no more, but she watched him warily. Experience warned her that her father was not one to let matters rest so easily.
To her surprise, he smiled again, saying only, “You had better get some breakfast, you know. I expect you have to get to the palace soon.”
“Are you going out, sir?” she asked as she turned with relief to examine the dishes set out on the sideboard.
“I have a meeting with Wellington and Peel this morning. I suppose your mother has told you that we mean to visit young Gideon at Oxford. We’ll leave tonight and return late Sunday.”
His casual attitude tempted her to tell him everything. Only the knowledge that he would instantly take the management of the Upper Brook Street house into his own hands stopped her. She had not yet proved her ability to deal with her affairs, and while she might need his help in the end, she was not ready to give up.
Helping herself to some toast, and an orange from the Jervaulx Abbey succession houses, she sat down and turned the subject to politics. Since he wanted to hear what others were saying about the Jamaican crisis, that topic occupied them satisfactorily until they had to go.
As they left the breakfast parlor together, he said, “If the Whigs suspend the Jamaican constitution on Monday, as they seem determined to do, Melbourne’s government is bound to fall. In that event, Her Majesty’s state ball on Friday will serve as a splendid celebration of the Tories’ return to power.”
Letty grimaced. “You may greet that notion with delight, sir, but I can assure you Her Majesty will not. The royal household has been on the fidget now for weeks. I cannot imagine what it will be like if Melbourne’s government falls.”
“Don’t fret about it, ducky. There will be changes in the royal household, as well. It won’t do, you know, for the queen to continue surrounding herself with Whigs once their party is out of power. Her constitutional duty demands that she present at least the appearance of impartiality.”
“She hasn’t done so yet,” Letty pointed out.
He smiled. “She will.”
Letty left soon afterward for the palace, and throughout the weekend, the activities in honor of Russia’s hereditary grand duke kept her busy. She saw Raventhorpe frequently, but if he noticed her he gave no sign of it. She might as well have been invisible.
Knowing she had only herself to blame for his attitude depressed her, but she could think of no way to change it, so she turned her mind to solving the problems in Upper Brook Street. Her duties kept her far too busy to do anything more than think about them, but the glimmerings of an idea began to form.
Her parents returned to London late Sunday night, and on Monday, as Jervaulx had predicted, Parliament suspended the Jamaican constitution. On Tuesday, also as predicted, the prime minister offered his resignation.
Letty was with Victoria when the news reached Buckingham Palace, and to her dismay, the queen dissolved into tears. “All, all my happiness gone,” Victoria exclaimed. “Dearest, kind Lord Melbourne no more to be my minister!”
Lady Tavistock instantly ordered the other ladies from the room, but word quickly spread through the palace that the queen remained inconsolable.
Melbourne visited her at noon, and she sent for her ladies afterward, apparently determined to put a good face on things. “Lord Melbourne insists I must send for Wellington,” she said. “He does not believe the duke will agree to form a government, but I hope he does, for if he won’t, I must send for Sir Robert Peel.”
The ladies closest to her exclaimed sympathetically. Letty said nothing, nor did anyone ask for her opinion.
“Melbourne says I must strive to conquer my dislike of Sir Robert,” Victoria added sadly. “It is very hard to have people forced upon you whom you dislike.”
Wellington visited her the following morning, but as expected, the elderly duke declined her offer to take over as prime minister. That afternoon Sir Robert Peel, in full court dress, presented himself at the palace, ready to receive his sovereign’s commands to form a new government.
Letty felt no more surprise than anyone else when the interview did not go well. She had met Peel, and had heard much about him. Her father thought him more intelligent than Melbourne and a far more skilled politician, but Sir Robert possessed few social graces and was apt to conceal shyness beneath a reserved, off-putting manner. In any event, as everyone knew, the Tory leader could not hope to compete with his charming predecessor for the queen’s favor.
Victoria emerged from their twenty-minute meeting with her eyes still tear-swollen and her demeanor resentful, but she announced to her ladies that she had remained collected, though she thought Sir Robert had seemed embarrassed and put out. Having said that, the queen added that Peel would return next day to report on his progress in forming a government, and then gave way again to her tears.
In the meantime, Letty spent nearly all her time at the palace, and saw little of her parents. Jervaulx spent less time than she did at home, and her mother was busy as well.
Thursday began with more royal tears and recriminations, but during the morning, a letter from Melbourne cheered Vic
toria, and led some of her anxious household to think the worst of the storm had passed. An exchange of notes followed, the queen evidently seeking and receiving advice from Melbourne about how she should deal with Sir Robert. Her spirits began to rise.
Peel arrived as promised early in the afternoon, and this time Victoria did not dismiss her ladies. It was, Letty thought, more like a state occasion of the sort that frequently prompted the young queen to display the splendor of her entourage than a normal meeting between sovereign and prime minister.
The audience began smoothly enough. Peel informed her of several of his appointments, including that of Wellington as his secretary for foreign affairs, and she deigned to accept them all. Several more points of business ensued before Sir Robert said quite audibly enough for all to hear, “Now, ma’am, about the ladies.”
Victoria said instantly, “We have no intention of giving up any of our ladies, sir. Indeed, we never imagined that you would ask such a thing of us.”
“Do you mean to keep them all, ma’am, even your mistress of robes and the ladies of the bedchamber?”
“All,” Victoria said flatly.
“But they are Whigs, ma’am, wives of the opposition party. Certainly, some change is necessary to show your confidence in the new administration.”
“We never talk politics with our ladies, sir,” the queen snapped. “Such a notion is absurd. We know that when governments change, a king must change members of his household who are members of Parliament, but unless you mean to give seats in that august body to our ladies, we have nothing more to discuss.”
Although Sir Robert continued to try to make his point, he failed, for Victoria remained unimpressed. When he left, his mood was somber.
He returned later with Wellington to try again, but although Victoria heard them out, they made no progress. The following morning, determined to prevent further demands that she remove at least certain ladies of her bedchamber, she sent Peel a flat refusal. She would not dismiss a single one of her dear friends.
Later in the day, Sir Robert, believing that he faced an impossible task, resigned without forming a government.
Victoria joyfully recalled Melbourne; and the state ball, which many in the palace had feared they would have to cancel or hold without the queen’s presence, suddenly loomed as a jubilant celebration, albeit not for the party that had hoped to be celebrating.
The queen retired with her bedchamber ladies to dress for the evening, and before following her, Lady Tavistock took Letty aside. “I daresay you intend to return home to dress for the ball, Letitia.”
“Yes, ma’am, with your permission.”
“Certainly, for Her Majesty will not require your presence at her little dinner for the hereditary grand duke and her ministers, so perhaps you will want to spend the time with your parents instead, and drive to the ball with them afterward.”
“Thank you, ma’am, I’d like that.” Though she thought it an odd suggestion, she had little time to think about it, and summoned her carriage at once. She had been home less than an hour, however, when a footman rapped at her dressing-room door and handed Jenifry a message for her.
Unfolding the note, Letty stared at it in dismay. The queen had dismissed her. Worse than that, Victoria had banished her from court.
NINETEEN
JENIFRY SAID ANXIOUSLY, “WHAT is it, Miss Letty?”
“They’ve dismissed me,” Letty told her grimly, “banished me from court.”
“Lor’, miss, why would they do such a thing?”
“In truth, I had half feared dismissal, because the queen was so out-of-reason cross with Sir Robert for demanding that she change her Whig ladies for Tories, but I never thought she would ban me from court altogether. This note says word has reached Her Majesty’s ears that I am involved in certain meretricious activities of which she must forcibly disapprove.”
“What’s that, then, ‘meretricious’?”
“Well, in this instance, I believe it means I’ve attracted attention in a vulgar way,” Letty explained. “Indeed I hope that is all it means. I have a dim recollection that it can also refer to matters relating to prostitutes or prostitution.”
“Lor’ now, what could Her Majesty know of such things, as young as she is?”
“She is nearly as old as I am,” Letty reminded her.
“Aye, so she is, but nonetheless, miss …” Jenifry tactfully fell silent.
“If you are on the brink of pointing out that we have enjoyed quite different upbringings, you are quite right,” Letty said with a rueful sigh. “I’m afraid Sir John Conroy or his minions have been busy again, but I wonder how much, exactly, he can have told her.”
“I swear, Miss Letty, I never—”
“I know you said nothing to Walter,” Letty said. “It would not matter, in any case, since between them, he and his precious Morden must know all there is to know about that house. I just never thought he’d dare tell Her Majesty. If he told her the whole truth, he took an awful risk that she would learn about his relationship with Lady Witherspoon.”
“He won’t want that, miss.”
“No, he most certainly won’t.”
Jenifry glanced at the clock. “It’s nearly seven, which is when his lordship said he wanted to leave for the palace,” she said quietly. “You had better go and tell him and your mama at once that you cannot go with them.”
Letty grimaced. “How on earth am I going to explain this to them without telling them the whole? What a scrape I’ve got myself into this time, Jen.”
“Just tell them you’ve been dismissed,” Jenifry suggested. “You need say no more than that tonight, surely.”
“Papa would demand to see the note I received. How would I explain that?”
“Still, miss, maybe his lordship can fix it. If he explains to Her Majesty that you have done nothing wrong—”
“She won’t want to listen to any Tory, Jen, least of all tonight,” Letty said.
“Still—”
“No, I don’t want him to fix things for me,” Letty said firmly. “I have thought of a way to deal with Miss Abby and Mrs. Linford, and I won’t have people saying I cannot manage my own affairs before I’ve even put it to them. I forbid you to say a word about this to Papa or to anyone else.”
“What will you do?”
“Stop asking questions! If Elvira weren’t still sick, you wouldn’t plague me like this.”
Instantly regretting her outburst, Letty opened her mouth to apologize, but the door opened and a maidservant hurried in, speaking as she came. “Lady Letitia, there’s another message come, and the man did say to bring it straight up, no matter that the butler said you was just on the point of leaving the house. And his lordship said to tell you to make haste, m’lady, lest you will be late to the palace.”
“Thank you,” Letty said, taking the message. “Tell his lordship I shall be down in a twinkling.”
“Yes, m’lady,” the maid said, turning with quick steps back toward the door.
As the door shut again, Jenifry said urgently, “Miss Letty, you must—”
“One minute, Jen,” Letty said. “Good gracious, this note is from Miss Abby. What the devil has happened now?” Reading swiftly, she frowned. “She writes only that I must come at once, that it’s a matter of life and death.”
“Lor’ now, what can she mean by that?”
“Heaven knows, but I’d better go,” Letty said. “No doubt she has exaggerated the case, but if she has not …” She fell silent, but her thoughts were racing. “At least this gives me a plausible excuse for not driving to the palace with Papa and Mama, but you will have to tell them, Jen. I can’t face them yet. They would ask too many questions, and I simply cannot lie to them.”
“You want me to lie?”
“No, certainly not. Just tell them that I have received a note asking me to stop in at the house. That much is quite true, after all. Say that I am certain the case is not as urgent as Miss Abby writes, that doubtless
she wants only to see me in my finery; and say that I will join them as soon as I can. Perhaps you can also beg them to make my excuses if Lady Tavistock complains of my absence. She will not do so, of course, so that will be all right.”
“It don’t sound all right to me, Miss Letty. His lordship will be turning me off without a character when he learns the truth about all this.”
“Don’t be daft, Jen.” Letty wished she could be as certain as she was trying to sound. Nevertheless, she added firmly, “Now, do as I bid you. I’ll go out to the stables myself and order a second carriage. You can join me there as soon as you’ve talked to them, because I want you to go with me.”
“Well, that’s a good thing, that is, because I’m either going or I’m telling his lordship the whole truth, miss. This don’t sound right to me, not right at all.”
“Go on, Jen, and don’t spout empty threats at me. You’ve never yet cried rope on me. I don’t suppose you will begin tonight.”
“Maybe I ought to have done long since, Miss Letty, for I’m thinking it’s a pity Miss Dibble is still laid down upon her bed. You’ve gone and got yourself into deep water this time, and no mistake. His lordship’s right about that, and I don’t mean your papa when I say that, neither.”
“We will not discuss Raventhorpe,” Letty said grimly. “I don’t even want to think about that man tonight. Now hurry, Jen. If Miss Abby does believe it’s a matter of life or death, she won’t thank us for dawdling.”
Letty did not for one moment believe that Miss Abby’s description would prove remotely akin to the true state of affairs at the Upper Brook Street house. Still, she hurried the stable-boys, affecting an urgency even greater than she felt.
When it occurred to her that the urgency she did feel likely rose from fear that her father might want to discuss her decision to visit Upper Brook Street, she put the unsettling thought out of her head. However, the sense of profound relief she felt when she saw Jenifry hurrying toward her alone, stirred an equal sense of guilt.
“What did they say?” she demanded as the dresser climbed in beside her and the coach began to move.
Amanda Scott - [Dangerous 04] Page 28
