Regency Belles & Beaux

by Michele McGrath

Although she had made this resolution, she still wept. When her tears dried at last, she was exhausted and slipped into sleep. She was roused by someone tapping at the door.

  “Come in,” she called and Nell walked in.

  “Why, you’ve been crying,” she exclaimed. “I thought you’d be so happy today. Didn’t Captain Clayton ask you to marry him after all? No one ever tells me anything!”

  Despite herself, Lucy smiled at a phrase she used to use herself a few months ago. She pulled her cousin towards her and gave her a hug.

  “Dearest Nell, you shouldn’t talk about such things. Your mother would be horrified to hear you.”

  “It’s only because you and have become such friends. I wouldn’t ask just anybody!”

  Lucy’s hug turned into a little shake. “I promise that if someone ever asks me to marry him and I accept, I will tell you immediately.”

  “You can’t mean you refused him!”

  “What makes you think that’s why he called here today?”

  “Why Mama and Grandmama were aux anges all morning and the servants were jostling in the doorways to get a sight of him. They told me what was happening. Then, when nothing else occurred, I decided to find out.”

  Lucy thought hard, seeking a way of telling a limited version of the truth without encouraging her young cousin to add to the servants’ gossip.

  “I hardly know Captain Clayton, so we have agreed to meet while the Season continues. If we have formed a preference for one other at the end, then we will announce our engagement.”

  “Oh!” Nell’s eyes were round. “So you may marry him after all. How lucky you are!”

  “Nothing is decided yet,” Lucy warned her. “If you gossip about this, Nell, it won’t happen. If you love me, promise to keep this a secret.”

  “Yes, I will. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt your chances. I like him don’t you?”

  “Yes I do.” Lucy said, but she crossed her fingers as she said it.

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Lucy begged to be excused from greeting callers for the rest of the day and Lady Ridgeway allowed her to stay in her room until they left. She would not excuse her, however, from coming down to dinner or going to the Rotunda that night.

  “What would people think if you stayed here? By now everybody is aware that Captain Clayton called on us today and spoke to you alone. Servants gossip with other servants. His attentions to you have been particular enough to be noticed. If you hide yourself away, they will be sure to say that either he could not bring himself to come up to scratch or that you have refused him. You’re not a ninnyhammer, so no one would believe you have said ‘no’ to such a wonderful offer. Dress yourself, let Morgan put a little rouge on your cheeks for you are too pale. Then, when you meet him, smile and talk to him as you have always done. Do anything else and you’ll be in a fair way to ruining your chances.”

  So Lucy allowed herself to be dressed and rouged although she said to Morgan, “I look like a painted doll.”

  “No, you don’t, miss, forgive me for saying so,” Morgan replied. “You look just like you usually do; you were too pale before. Your own roses will come back very soon and you won’t need any more rouge.”

  Lucy swung around to her. Did she know?

  Then Morgan said, “Enjoy yourself this evening, miss.”

  Lucy did not feel ready to mix with others. Two couples were dining with Lady Mary and Lucy found it difficult to make conversation, something which was usually simple for her. She hardly touched her dinner; every one of her favourite dishes tasted like ashes in her mouth. She was glad to leave the house to attend the musical performance.

  Lucy had never been to the Rotunda before and the Round Room was packed. She nodded and talked to her acquaintances as they waited for the music to begin. Lady Ridgeway had been right, she admitted to herself. Several ladies stared at her and then turned sharply away. She heard a stifled giggle or two. This brought out her courage and she held her head high, smiling at many people. She did not pay attention to the superb Italian soprano who sang that night, or to any of the performers who followed her, being lost in her thoughts. Captain Clayton came up to the family at the interval and asked Lady Mary if he might take Lucy to meet his sisters who were present at the gathering. She smilingly agreed and Lucy had to put her hand on his arm and go with him. He gave her no cause to be uncomfortable, conversing on indifferent matters and introducing her as, ‘My friend Miss Ridgeway’, to his sisters and their husbands. Lucy thought his sisters looked rather critically but she made herself answer their questions and brushed through the ordeal reasonably well. They were returning to her seat when a voice said behind her,

  “Why Miss Ridgeway, what a surprise to meet you here.”

  She turned and found herself looking into the face of the real Mr. Anselm. Lucy almost fainted at the sight. She dug her nails into the palm of her hand, hoping the slight pain would take her mind off her shock. She thought rapidly. Captain Clayton had met the false Mr. Anselm only last night, he would be certain to remark on it if she introduced them now. It was unpardonable not to do so, of course, but she needed time.

  “How lovely to meet you again.” She gave him her hand and then said, “Pray forgive me. My aunt is signalling, so I must go to her directly.”

  “May I call on you?”

  “Please do.” She pinched Captain Clayton’s arm and gave him a slight tug to hurry him away.

  “What was that all about? Why didn’t you introduce us?”

  “I’ll explain it to you tomorrow.”

  “Has that man offered you insult?”

  “No, not at all. Tomorrow, I promise. Please take me back to my aunt now.”

  Lucy spent the rest of the evening trying to find a way out of her dilemma. Why did these things have to happen to her? Two Mr. Anselms were in Dublin, just as they had feared! Bishop Mortimer had accepted O’Rourke as the released prisoner from Saint-Malo and sponsored him into society. Now the real Mr. Anselm had arrived, there was certain to be a scandal. She knew both of them. The bishop would ask questions and what answers could she give? O’Rourke was leaving tomorrow but what if Mr. Anselm met him before he did so? Someone might mention tonight they had met someone with the same name in Dublin. The real Mr. Anselm would be sure to query it because it was so unusual. He would expect to meet a relation but if he saw O’Rourke, he would immediately recognise him. O’Rourke would be taken and hanged. She herself would be suspected, if not accused of conspiracy. Her whole family would be horrified and repudiate her for her deceit. The horrors whirled around and around in her mind.

  At the end of the performance, she stood up, accompanied her aunt and grandmother to their carriage. She spoke to people, said ‘goodnight’ and went to her room, all without being aware of her actions. She allowed herself to be undressed and put to bed. As soon as Rose left she threw back the bedcovers, lit a candle and found some clothes in the press. The one thing she could not bear was to see O’Rourke captured and accused of piracy, without making some attempt to save him. She must go to him now and tell him that Anselm was already in Dublin. He had to leave for Belfast tonight before the hue and cry could be brought against him.

  She was shivering as she dressed; hoping she would have the courage to do what she had to do. If she tried to send a servant, they would quite rightly refuse such a clandestine errand and betray her to her grandmother. Lucy had never been out alone at night and she had heard that unpleasant things could happen. Nevertheless she must go. She was fumbling with nervousness but she finished at last. She eased open the door of her room and looked out into the corridor. It was empty. She crept along and down the stairs, avoiding the fifth tread which squeaked. The door was locked and bolted but the key was in the lock and clicked when she turned it. The bottom bolt was easy too but she had to stand on tiptoes to reach the upper one. It was stiff and it took her an age to draw it. She managed it eventually, went out and pulled the door closed behind her. It would have to be left unlock
ed but that could not be helped. Everything was dark. No moon shone and only a few candles in windows or lantern hanging in doorways lit the gloom. A cold wind blew straight into her face and chilled her to the bone. Lucy hugged her pelisse around her and wished she had brought something warmer.

  It’s not far; I’ll soon be there, she chanted to herself. At least he had told her where he was staying. She had looked for the place on her walks around the area with Nell. A large dog barked at her. The shadow of a stranger almost frightened her to death, so she hid herself in a doorway and he passed her by. Bushes waving in the wind in the square seemed to be reaching out to her with skeleton fingers. She was gasping with fright when she got to his door. It was closed, of course, locked up for the night. Lucy hammered at it with her fists until she saw a light in one of the windows. It was thrust up and an angry voice yelled,

  “What do you want? Waking the house like this!”

  “Mr. Anselm. I have to see Mr. Anselm. It’s urgent.” She heard another window being raised and a head peered out.

  “What does a doxy like you want with him?”

  “Lucy?”

  “Patrick?”

  “You’re speaking to my sister, Coombes. Our mother must have taken a turn for the worst. Let her in at once.”

  Footsteps sounded but the door was opened by O’Rourke himself. He drew her into the house as a man in a nightshirt and hastily donned breeches came out of a room holding a candle. A frowsy looking woman stood behind him.

  “Don’t let that whore in here, William. I don’t want her under my roof,” she said.

  “Call my sister anything like that again either of you and you’ll wish you hadn’t.” O’Rourke took a step towards the man who shuffled backwards. Then he caught Lucy’s arm and pushed her in front of him up the stairs.

  “Where are you taking her? I won’t have any goings on in here.”

  O’Rourke ignored her, taking Lucy to a first floor room and closing the door behind him.

  “What is it?” he hissed. “You shouldn’t be here.”

  “Anselm’s in Dublin. The real Mr. Anselm. You’ve got to go at once before anyone comes to find you.”

  “Has he indeed? A plague on the fellow. Have you left your grandmother’s house in the dark just to warn me about him?”

  “I don’t want you hanged.”

  He gripped her up in his arms and placed a fierce kiss on her lips.

  “I won’t be,” he replied as he let her go, “now I’m warned, but what can I do with you?”

  “I left the door unlocked,” she told him, “so I should be able to sneak back into Grandmama’s house. What are you doing?”

  He was on his hands and knees in a corner of the room where there was a hole in the floorboards.

  “Packing,” he said as he drew out a pistol and his sword. “Clergymen don’t wear swords and the landlord’s nosy.” In a very short time he was dressed, with his sword strapped on and his pistol in his belt. He slung a small pack on his back and opened the door.

  “Come. Don’t say anything to the fine couple downstairs and keep your face turned away from them.”

  She did as she was bid but the Coombes made no attempt to stop them once O’Rourke threw a handful of coins on the floor. They were too busy scrambling around trying to pick them up. Lucy and O’Rourke hurried back to the house in Lower Hatch Street. When they came around the corner, lights could be seen in most of the windows and a servant stood on the pavement looking in the opposite direction. O’Rourke pulled Lucy out of his sight.

  “Your absence has been discovered,” he said, “and they are searching for you.”

  “You must get away. Leave me here. Once you’re gone I’ll go in. I’m safe now.”

  “You haven’t thought. They’ll want to know where you went and what can you tell them? You went to warn me about Anselm? They’ll find out soon enough that you deceived everyone by vouching for me.”

  “I have thought all evening about it. We agreed on the story I was to tell. Even if they find out it’s a lie, they won’t hang me. Leave me and go.”

  “No. You can’t go back there for a while at least. A young girl going out alone in the night is unheard of. They’ll badger you to make you talk and even if you don’t, there’ll be trouble. You’ve not known them long enough for them to accept your excuses without question. People like them don’t want scandal. We need time to decide what to do. There’s only one place in this city where you’ll be safe and we can be sure to find help. Come with me.”

  He hurried her down the street and several others, some she had never been to before. She lost her bearings but he did not slacken pace, saying when she asked,

  “It’ll soon be light. I don’t want anyone to see us together.”

  Shortly afterwards he plunged into an alleyway and started to count the houses which loomed against the sky.

  “This is it.” He put his shoulder to a rickety gate and shoved. It gave a tremendous creak. Inside was a cobbled yard. He lifted a brick in one of the walls and pulled out a key which opened the back door of the house.

  “It’s not as grand as you’re used to but…”

  “Who’s there?” A dim figure loomed over the banisters an upright poker held in his hand.

  O’Rourke laughed and called out, “The bad penny, Uncle, turned up to plague you once again.”

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Later, as they sat before a freshly-kindled fire in the small parlour O’Rourke and Lucy told their tales. John Reilly, O’Rourke’s uncle, kept perfect silence during the recital although his wife, Sarah, gasped and tut-tutted from time to time.

  “I never expected when I sent you away from Ireland, that you would get yourself into such a mess,” John said when they had finished. “I might have known. You take after your father, he was always in trouble when he was young.”

  “Can you help us, Uncle?” O’Rourke asked, looking to Lucy’s eyes like a schoolboy caught in mischief. “You know the law, what would you advise us to do?”

  “Of course I will, but we must consider what is to be done before we act.” John paused and he peered into the flames. “You’ve been so long away that your whole appearance has changed, not just your hair. I didn’t recognise you immediately. If you hadn’t chosen to be a privateer, it might have been possible for you to remain in Ireland under another name, but not now. Piracy carries the death penalty. This man in Dublin can bear witness you were an officer on a French ship, which is treason. Even if I could find a way around the earlier charge of conspiracy which lay against you when you left here, piracy alone would seal your fate. As for this young lady…” he looked at her. “You’re not of age but you could still be charged with aiding and abetting a felon. Anselm would say that you knew exactly who my nephew was, yet you helped him to pass himself off as your fellow prisoner.”

  “It would be his word against mine, surely?”

  “You wouldn’t be believed. You’re a female and he’s a man of the cloth. Your youth will only protect you so far. From what you’ve told me, it could be argued that you’re under my nephew’s influence so much that you have lost your mind. One of the kindest outcomes would be for your family to bring you back to Kinsale and keep you under lock and key until you have recovered. They would not be the first family in Ireland to confine a relative if they had brought shame on their name. This could last for months or years. Is that what you want?”

  “No!” Lucy and O’Rourke spoke together, looking at each other in horror.

  “They wouldn’t, would they, Uncle? Lucy has done no harm to anyone.”

  “You asked me what the law would say and I tell you that Lucy is not innocent. At the very least, she has practised criminal deception. Would you like her to be locked up either in her family’s home or an asylum or a gaol?”

  “Of course not.”

  “The only solution is for both of them to vanish,” Aunt Sarah spoke for the first time. “They must leave Ireland as soon as possible.
”

  “I was going to Belfast on the stage coach tomorrow and then taking a ship to America.”

  “You can’t go by the stage now,” John warned. “If Anselm has told his tale, then they will be looking for you. If you are correct and Lucy’s absence has been discovered, they are searching for her too. No, you must wait for a while until I can arrange your escape.” He turned to his wife. “Sarah, hide them in the cellar. The maid will be up soon and they mustn’t be seen. Make them as comfortable as possible. I’ll clear up here and then we’ll go to bed as if nothing had happened. With luck, I’ll be able to get them away tonight.”

  “A moment, John,” Aunt Sarah said. She looked straight at Patrick. “You’re the cause of this girl’s misfortune. If you take her with you, you must marry her and keep her safe. Otherwise it would be kinder to leave her here with us and we’ll arrange something for her.”

  Patrick turned to Lucy. He took her hand and said,

  “Ever since the day we met I wanted to marry her. I would have done so long ago if I hadn’t believed it would bring her to disaster. More than anything in my life I want Lucy to be with me. Now that both our futures are uncertain, at least we can face them together. Lucy, my love, will you marry me?”

  “I thought you would never ask. Of course, I’ll marry you.”

  “Good,” said Aunt Sarah as she kissed them both.

  The cellar was a cold dank place but Aunt Sarah found them some blankets and gave them water and food.

  “I daren’t leave you a candle in case the maid smells it. I’ll release you when she goes to market but you must stay here for now and keep as quiet as you can, for all our sakes. Uncle John is risking his freedom and livelihood by helping you.”

  “I know, Aunt. Thank you.” O’Rourke kissed her on the cheek and then she left. He sat down on the floor and pulled Lucy close to him, covering them both with the blankets which smelt stale with damp. The darkness closed in around them and Lucy could not help crying. She tried not to make a noise but her uneven breathing told its own story. A handkerchief was pressed into her hand and she dried her eyes.