by A. O'Connor
Charles shook his head. “Unfortunately not. Emily has a packed week of events.”
“No, I don’t,” said Emily. “Well, nothing that can’t be cancelled. I haven’t been to Fortnum and Mason yet, and it’s on my list of things to do.”
“Well, then – Tuesday at one?” asked Hugh.
“See you then,” said Emily nonchalantly.
Hugh nodded and rode on.
“Who is he?” asked Emily.
“Just an acquaintance. You shouldn’t have accepted that invitation.” Charles was annoyed. “You’re supposed to be having lunch with the Brewers on Tuesday.”
“That’s the very reason I accepted it!” said Emily as they rode on through the park.
As Arabella and Charles walked into Fortnum and Mason they spotted Hugh immediately – he was sitting at a table and waved them over.
“This is a treat!” said Emily after they greeted each other and she sat down.
Hugh handed them menus. “Please, order anything you want.”
Charles took the menu and sat back. “Have you bought Fortnum and Masons as well, Hugh?” He didn’t hide the cynicism in his voice.
“Not yet.” Hugh looked at him pointedly.
They ordered food and chatted away.
“You’re over here as a debutante?” said Hugh.
“Yes, I’ve already been presented at court. Poor old Queen Vicky, I felt quite sorry for her. She looked as if she had less interest in being there than I had! The Prince of Wales seemed to be fun, though.”
Hugh looked at her, amused. “Do you like London?” he asked.
“Oh, yes. But what I’d really like is to go to New York some time. Have you travelled much?”
“Yes, I’ve been to many places around the world.”
Emily sat forward, intrigued. “Where’s the most exotic place you’ve been?”
“I’d say Constantinople,” Hugh said.
Emily’s eyes widened in amazement. “Tell me what are the markets like – is it true you can buy anything in the world there?”
As Hugh talked about Constantinople, Charles wondered what reasons took Hugh there and guessed it would be something to do with the opium trade.
Emily found Hugh’s stories captivating. She hadn’t met anyone like him before – he was so different from the stuffy people she had met since arriving in London.
“Charles!” called somebody from another table and Charles excused himself to go over and talk to them.
Hugh looked at Emily and smiled and seemed suddenly embarrassed to be left alone in her company.
“So – what events have you lined up for the rest of the week?” he asked.
“I’m attending a ball at Lady Hollander’s on Friday. Do you know her?”
“Yes, I sponsor a lot of her charity work.”
“I know she does a lot of good works. I know this because she never shuts up telling everyone about it!”
“I’m certain she’ll have a lot of eligible suitors lined up to meet you.”
Emily looked at him and giggled before sitting forward. “Can I tell you a secret?”
“Yes.”
“I have no intention of marrying any of them.”
“Sorry?”
“A lot of insipid bores. I’m over here to enjoy myself.”
“I see! But a girl like you could own the world,” he said, amazed at her attitude.
“Oh, I’m not like my sisters, Mr Fitzroy. I don’t want to own the world – I just want to see some of it.”
He smiled at her. “Please, call me Hugh.”
At Lady Hollander’s ball Emily tried to be polite to the people around her and then found a quiet corner and sat down, wondering how long it would go on and when she could get home to her comfortable bed. Then she saw Hugh Fitzroy walking across the floor to her.
“Hello there,” he said.
“Good evening, Hugh. I didn’t realise you were coming tonight.”
“Neither did I,” he said, looking awkward. “Could you put me on your card later for a dance, if you would allow? That is, if you’re not already booked up?”
She looked at him curiously and held up her dance card. “My dance card is empty.”
Hugh looked at her, confused.
“I haven’t accepted any dance invitations tonight, you see,” she explained.
“Oh, you don’t like to dance?”
“No, it’s not that,” she said, standing up. “I’m free to dance now, if you wish?”
He nodded and smiled and led her out to the dance floor where they began to waltz.
“Why didn’t you accept anybody’s dance invitations?” he asked.
“Because there was nobody here that interested me enough to dance with.”
He went red with embarrassment. “But you accepted mine?”
She nodded and smiled. She found his eyes always stared and, when she was that close to him, it was impossible not to stare back.
“I’m getting some jealous looks from the men,” said Hugh.
“Who cares? They are not interested in me, not really. More interested in how big a dowry they can get from my father.”
“If I . . . if I ever got married . . . I wouldn’t accept any dowry at all.”
She smiled at him, trying to understand him. “Why not?”
“Because I’d just want her.”
Suddenly he stood on her toes.
“I’m sorry!” He was mortified. “I’m so sorry. I’m not a good dancer at all. I’ve been getting lessons, but . . .”
She placed a finger against his mouth. “It doesn’t matter, not to me, how you dance.”
She went back into his arms and they continued to dance.
At the breakfast table at Hanover Terrace on the Monday morning, Emily was having breakfast with Arabella and Charles when Burchill came in holding a gift box which he laid on the table.
“For Lady Emily,” he said, before retreating from the room.
“What on earth is that?” asked Charles as Emily opened the navy velvet box.
“It’s a diamond necklace,” said Emily, astounded, as she looked down at the necklace sitting on its silk bed.
Arabella got up quickly and came around to look at it.
“Who is it from?”
Emily read the card. “Hugh Fitzroy!”
Arabella looked at Charles with concern.
“Such a remarkable gesture!” Emily was taken aback.
“It certainly beats the normal calling cards that gentlemen send you,” said Charles.
“That man has more money than sense,” said Arabella, trying to calm Emily’s obvious excitement. “He’s always sending lavish gifts to anyone who looks at him in London. He sent me diamond earrings once.”
“But I imagine they were nothing like this!” said Emily correctly, as they all started to mentally count the diamonds on the necklace.
chapter 38
Arabella looked on with increasing concern as the summer months passed by. Hugh Fitzroy turned up at all the balls Emily went to and Emily spent most of the evenings in his company. Arabella decided she needed to act to avoid any misunderstanding on anyone’s part. She was in the drawing room at Hanover Terrace in the late morning when Emily came happily in.
“What a lovely day!” said Emily as she went and looked out the windows. “Do you fancy going for a walk in the park this afternoon?”
“Yes, that sounds nice. Emily, I’ve been meaning to have a word with you about Mr Fitzroy.”
“About Hugh?” asked Emily, turning around, smiling.
“Yes. I don’t think it’s wise for you to spend too much time in his company from now on.”
“Why not?” Emily’s face soured.
“Because I think you might be scaring off other potential suitors by giving him so much attention.”
“Good! I want to scare off any potential suitors.”
Arabella became annoyed. “And I don’t think you’re being fair to Hugh himself.”
> “Why not?”
“Because – because you don’t want to give him the wrong impression.”
Emily walked slowly over to the couch and sat down. “And what wrong impression would that be?”
“That he might be in with any kind of chance with you.”
“I see . . . and who says he’s not in with ‘any kind of chance’ with me?”
Arabella laughed derisorily. “Of course he isn’t! Because he’s not in any way suitable – in fact I can’t think of anyone less suitable.”
“I think Hugh is refreshing. He’s different from the others. He’s not caught up in what schools everyone went to and what clubs they are in.”
“That’s only because he probably didn’t go to school and is only in any club because Charles nominated him into it!”
“Well, I’m sorry, Arabella, but I’m not going to shun Hugh in future. He’s been incredibly kind to me. Kinder than anyone ever has been.”
Arabella looked cynical. “He’s good at deceiving people, Emily, and buying them and swamping them with gifts. That’s not kindness – that’s vulgar and insincere.”
“Well, I don’t see how it’s anything to do with you.”
“It’s everything to do with me! While in London, you’re my charge –”
“I’m not your charge! I’m supposed to be Gwyneth’s charge, except she’s not up to the job due to her pregnancy.”
“Exactly, and the job has fallen to me. Your mother and father would be horrified that you were even speaking to someone like Hugh Fitzroy, let alone accepting all these gifts and dancing all night with him. I owe it to them to ensure you conduct yourself properly while here.”
“They don’t trust you of all people! Not after everything you did! You forget, Arabella, I was party to your deceitful affair with Charles. Everyone else doesn’t know the extent of your deception and the lengths you went to and the depths to which you sank in order to hide your sordid affair. But I do. I was your go-between. And I will not be dictated to you now about who is suitable and not suitable to socialise with. Not you of all people!”
“Emily –”
“No! You might like to go around now with all your airs and graces. You and Charles, the toast of society. But I know it’s all a façade, a game of charades to hide your real selves.” She stood up angrily. “At least with Hugh you get what you see. Certainly he doesn’t have the polite manners and upbringing everyone else has, but at least he’s real – and that’s what I like about him!”
Emily turned and stormed out of the room.
Charles was in the study reading a letter when Arabella walked in and closed the door behind her.
“Charles, I need to speak to you about Emily and this unsuitable friendship she’s established with Hugh Fitzroy. It has to stop! I tried speaking to her about it, but you know how defiant she is. She pushed me away and dismissed me, in quite a rude way.”
Charles laughed. “That’s dearest little Emily for you.”
“It’s not a laughing matter, Charles. She’s never going to find a suitable match with him hanging around like a bad smell.”
“Come, come, Arabella! I think both you and I know Emily has no intention of making a match with anybody.” He looked at her, amused. “Are you honestly suggesting she’s contemplating Hugh in any way other than a casual entertainment?”
“You are forgetting, Charles, that Emily is a young and a very inexperienced girl. Just because she has a smart mouth and a stubborn streak does not make her in any way worldly wise. All she knows about the world she’s read in books, but this is the real world she’s in now, and she’s completely uneducated in its ways.”
“Emily is much cleverer than you give her credit for. As if she has any real feelings for Fitzroy or ever could! She’s an aristocrat; Lord Armstrong’s daughter!”
“That’s as may be, but you and I of all people should know how things can get out of hand. If your mother was here supervising Emily, she wouldn’t even be allowed in the same room as Fitzroy.”
“What do you suggest I do about it?”
“Speak to Fitzroy – warn him to keep his distance.”
“I see!” said Charles, wondering how Hugh would take that.
“The more that man has infiltrated himself into society the more fantastical the rumours I’ve heard about him. Most of which I wouldn’t sully my mouth by repeating. I don’t want him near Emily again, or near you for that matter.”
“I can hardly just cut off a friend!”
“Yes, you can!” she said, her eyes blazing with determination. Then she turned and walked out.
As Charles turned his chair and looked out the window at the gardens, he thought how Hugh had become too powerful for anyone to tell what to do. But he knew Arabella was right. If she had known what he had witnessed that night in the East End, she would faint. The time had come to cut Hugh Fitzroy loose.
Charles had been summoned in to meet his bank manager. And as Charles sat down opposite him Mr Jones did not look in a good mood.
“We’ve been writing to you for months and our correspondence has been ignored,” said Mr Jones.
“It’s Burchill the butler – he’s always falling down on his duties. But he’s been with the family for years, so it would be cruel to get rid of him at this stage.”
“Indeed. Well, quite simply you are behind months with the mortgage repayments for Hanover Terrace.”
Charles glared at Mr Jones. “And why haven’t you been taking the repayments from my bank account as usual?”
“There isn’t enough in your bank account to cover the repayments,” Mr Jones said, handing over a sheaf of paperwork.
Charles looked through the paperwork with growing alarm. “But – but – this can’t be correct.”
“Quite correct, unfortunately.”
“But where did all the money go to? All the money transferred when I raised the money on the mortgage on Hanover Terrace?”
“Spent, I imagine. Money has been pouring out of your account like water over the Victoria Falls. Previously, when your account was nearly empty it was of no concern for the bank. But now, with the massive arrears you owe the bank, it’s very much our concern.”
Charles continued to stare at the paperwork in shock. He knew their lifestyle was lavish but even they couldn’t go through this amount of money, could they? Two fortunes lost in a matter of years – Arabella’s dowry and the mortgage money.
And yet as Mr Jones droned on, he realised the expense of everything in their life, not to mention that confounded gambling debt he had built up. Usually his winnings supplemented their lifestyle, but he had been on such a losing streak for such a long time.
“I’m afraid at this stage we have no alternative but to write to your father Lord Armstrong and inform him that unless immediate payment is made we will have to repossess his house at Hanover Terrace.”
Charles slammed the paperwork down on the desk.
“You will do no such thing!” he almost shouted. “You will not write to my father under any circumstances regarding this!”
“But –”
“But nothing! You sit there in your cheap suit and with your tacky spectacles and dare to talk to me about such things!”
Mr Jones was taken aback and found himself getting angry. “This is the bank’s money, and we have a responsibility to our shareholders.”
“You should be honoured you have the Armstrongs as clients! You will leave this with me and you’ll get your bloody money.”
“Very well. I’m aware your father has considerable assets and will obviously not want to lose his London house. But I’m warning you, if we do not receive full payment, we will repossess that house. Good day.”
Dazed, Charles walked along Regent Street. He had to concede he had been living like one of the richest men in London, when clearly he wasn’t. Charles realised Jones was not messing around and would start taking the necessary steps to recoup the bank’s money. It would take only one le
tter to his father from the bank for his house of cards to come crashing down. His father and everyone else would find out about the fraudulent mortgage he had raised. Not to mention the fact he would be left penniless. He wracked his head trying to think of a solution. And then he thought of Hugh Fitzroy. His close and loyal and very rich friend. Hugh would lend him the money to stave of this disaster. What was the money to him? A drop in the ocean.
“This is unexpected,” said Hugh as he led Charles into the living room of his suite at Claridge’s. “You haven’t been over for a while.”
“No – I’ve been busy chaperoning Emily around.”
“I see,” said Hugh, sitting down. “Tea or something?”
“No, I’m all right for now.” Charles smiled over at Hugh. “I’ve come to see you because I need your help with something.”
“Name it and I’ll do it,” said Hugh.
Charles felt relieved. “You see, Hugh, I’ve got myself into a bit of a pickle.”
“How so?”
“A financial pickle, I’m afraid.”
“Go on.”
“Well, I took out a loan from the bank and now they are demanding it back, greedy bastards.”
“I see,” Hugh said, lost in thought.
“I thought there was enough money there to cover the loan, and when I checked the cupboard was bare, so to speak.”
Hugh said nothing as he studied Charles.
“A bit embarrassing really,” Charles rattled on. “Power can really go to some people’s heads. This little bank manager sat there lecturing me.”
“But your father is Lord Armstrong with that vast estate.”
“I know, but I can’t really go to him, you’ll understand. I’ll obviously own it all one day, but tomorrow isn’t today, and today is when I need the money. So I’d hoped . . .”
“That I would give you the money,” Hugh finished off the sentence.
“Lend it to me.” Charles smiled confidently at him.
Hugh took a long time to answer before saying, “No, I can’t.”
“I’m sorry?”
“I can’t lend you any more money.”
