Then, at the last moment, Mr Kendall rushed out and hired a small orchestra. He then wondered where to put them until his wife suggested they house them in the bedroom over the dining room and get them to play very loudly near the fireplace so that the strains of music would filter down the flue. Just before the duke was due to arrive, the household was crammed to bursting point with servants and musicians. Everyone was quarrelling with everyone else, except Sally, resplendent in tight, low-cut print gown, white gauze apron, jaunty cap with streamers, and red-heeled shoes, who ogled everything in breeches.
The duke felt unusually nervous as he descended from his carriage. He had discounted his mother’s remarks about the Kendalls being pushy mushrooms. She was probably thinking of some other couple. She was very muddled and absent-minded these days. The Kendalls were no doubt a worthy, decent couple.
He then recoiled in surprise, for at the sight of him a double line of footmen shouted, ‘Huzza! Huzza! Huzza!’ and from an open upstairs bedroom window crashed out the strains of ‘See the Conquering Hero Comes’.
Feeling dazed, he walked into the hall. The footmen crowded in after him and there was an unseemly scrum as they fought among themselves for the honour of taking his grace’s greatcoat.
‘Get back, you scum!’ roared the butler, Butter-worth, and the footmen sulkily filed down the narrow back stairs to the kitchen, where a stream of hysterical French oaths greeted them.
‘Sorry about that, your grace,’ said the butler, taking greatcoat, hat, gloves and cane. ‘Can’t get good staff these days.’ He ran a calloused thumb over the cloth of the duke’s coat. ‘Nice bit o’ stuff,’ he said. ‘Bath superfine?’
The duke glared down his nose and said, ‘Please announce me.’
‘Can’t,’ said Butteworth laconically. ‘Got to pay off that mob,’ meaning the footmen. ‘Here, Sally, take his grace into the parlour.’
Sally came swaying up to the duke and dropped a low curtsy. He noticed he could see her nipples. She looked up at him roguishly and ran a pink tongue slowly over her lips.
‘Is this the home of Mr and Mrs Kendall?’ he asked, wondering whether he had arrived by mistake at a brothel that was throwing some sort of a party.
‘Oh yes, your grace,’ giggled Sally. ‘Be so kind as to follow me.’
She threw open the double doors of the parlour and shouted. ‘’Ere ’e is!’
Mr and Mrs Kendall rose to meet their future son-in-law. Mrs Kendall was wearing so many jewels and necklaces on her massive bosom that she looked like a tray in a jeweller’s window. Mr Kendall was squeezed into a pink silk evening coat. His fat face was painted and rouged and the starched points of his shirt were digging into his cheeks. Behind them stood Miss Spiggs, simpering and curtsying.
After the introductions, Butterworth appeared with champagne and Sally carried around the tray of glasses. She handed one to the duke and winked.
‘A toast!’ said Mr Kendall. ‘To the happy couple.’
The toast was duly drunk. ‘My boy,’ said Mr Kendall, trying to throw an arm about the duke’s shoulders, but the duke stepped quickly away, ‘you are lucky to be marrying into such a wealthy family, although I am sure you are not short of a bob yourself. Look at my wife’s jools. A fortune on that dress alone.’ He then proceeded to give the duke an inventory of everything on his wife’s person, including where it was bought and how much it cost.
‘I am sure our respective lawyers will agree as to the marriage settlements,’ said the duke stiffly. He looked away from the Kendalls and his eye fell on Sally, who raised the hem of her skirt to show a well-turned ankle.
‘Can’t hear that orchestra,’ said Mr Kendall. ‘What do they think I pay them for?’ He bent down and shouted up the chimney, ‘Play louder, you monkeys!’
The resultant blast of sound effectively drowned out any further chance of conversation.
They moved through to the dining room. The table was groaning under the weight of gold plate that bore the Earl of Sotheby’s coat of arms. Sotheby had lost all his money recently, mused the duke. The Kendalls must have bought his entire dinner service at auction.
As they waited to be served, the orchestra mercifully fell silent, but there came sounds of a fight from belowstairs, French curses, and then the sound of Sally screaming.
‘Pay no heed,’ said Mr Kendall. ‘Servants are the devil. So, your grace, you could have knocked me down with a feather. Mind you, Miss Spiggs here told us she had put a word in your ear.’
The duke looked frostily at Miss Spiggs, who turned as red as fire and then said incoherently that it was just her little bit of fun, just joking.
‘Ho, you was, was you?’ snapped Mrs Kendall. ‘And you saying it was all your doing and blackening the Tribbles’ names and saying I had wasted my blunt.’
‘Never mind that now,’ said Mr Kendall. ‘We’ve got a real Frenchie as a cook, your grace, so you’ll get all those foreign messes you society people like.’
The company continued to wait uneasily for their food, all trying gamely to make conversation and all wondering what on earth was happening below-stairs.
The butler entered, followed by Sally. Sally’s gown was torn on one shoulder, showing even more delectable flesh, and the butler had a black eye.
He put down a large tureen on the table. From it came the homely smell of beef broth.
‘What’s this?’ screeched Mrs Kendall.
‘Not my fault,’ said the butler passionately. ‘It was them hired footmen got fresh with Sally and that Frenchie starts screaming and hollering and they was all punching and gouging. Then Frenchie runs off after throwing the entire contents of the pots at them footmen. So I went along to the chop-house and ordered the dinner from there.’
‘The soup smells excellent,’ said the duke. ‘Why not serve it?’
This social disaster had the effect of silencing the Kendalls and Miss Spiggs. The duke was able to enjoy his meal in peace. His only worry was how to break the engagement to Maria. For of course he could not marry her. Such in-laws were out of the question. At last the covers were removed, the port was brought in and the ladies retired.
‘I must apologize for this evening,’ said Mr Kendall. ‘I usually keep a good table.’
‘On the contrary, dinner was excellent,’ said the duke and meant it.
‘I need a larger house,’ said Mr Kendall gloomily. ‘Never thought of it until now.’ Then his face brightened. ‘Course, we’ll be living with you after your marriage, your grace, so the question won’t arise.’
‘You will not be living with me,’ said the duke. ‘I am plagued enough with relatives of my own.’
‘As you will,’ said Mr Kendall, ‘but you’ll need our advice as to how to handle Maria. Give her a touch of the birch if she annoys you. That’s the way she’s been brought up.’
The duke thought compassionately of Maria but then hardened his heart. He had made a rash mistake, a dreadful mistake. He decided to approach the Tribbles and pay them a large fee if they could break the engagement. He did not believe for one moment Maria’s promise to give him his freedom should he change his mind.
Maria made her début, without the duke, who had not yet returned, at the Livingstones’ ball. She was a great success, as were the Tribbles. Every matchmaking mama wanted to know how they had achieved such a prize for their charge. Frederica Sunningdale was at the ball, and Maria was delighted to renew her acquaintance. They arranged to meet the following day. Beau danced with Maria and begged her forgiveness so humbly that Maria warmed to him. In fact, she felt she could forgive anyone anything, she was so elated and happy at her success. Absence made the heart grow fonder. She forgot about the duke’s haughty manner and remembered only that he was handsome and rich.
Maria went out driving with Frederica the following day. Frederica was anxious to hear all the details of the romance, and so Maria obliged, and, by the time she had finished, felt quite sure she really was in love with the duke after all.
/> Although Amy and Effy were enjoying their success, they still felt uneasy. ‘Such a stiff neck as that duke will be shocked by her parents,’ said Amy. ‘What if he comes roaring back and wants out of it?’
‘He cannot get out of it,’ said Effy, ‘unless he is prepared to face a great deal of scandal and a possible breach-of-promise suit in the courts.’
‘I suppose they aren’t that bad,’ said Amy.
Effy sighed. ‘Oh yes, they are, sister dear.’
She then noticed Amy had stopped listening to her and was gazing hopefully across the floor. Mr Haddon had arrived.
He walked straight across to them, bowed before Amy and asked her to dance.
Effy bridled as the couple walked away together. It was too bad of Mr Haddon to raise hopes in Amy’s silly breast. Also it was not fair of his friend, Mr Randolph, to stay away from so many functions. Her eyes narrowed and she tapped her foot. Amy was not going to steal a march on her. She must not marry. Effy began to plot and plan ways to draw Mr Haddon’s attention to herself.
But the duke’s return from Bath on the following day soon put any such ideas out of Effy’s head for the time being.
Both sisters knew something was badly wrong when he merely bowed to Maria and said he wished to see the Misses Tribble alone.
Maria left the room, looking worried. While he had been away, she had dreamt of a handsome, lover-like duke, and to see him again as he really was, cold, bad-tempered and withdrawn, made her wish she had never promised to marry him.
‘What do you wish to talk to us about, your grace?’ asked Effy, after he had been served with wine.
‘I met Miss Kendall’s parents. Although I did not, after all, ask for their permission to wed Miss Kendall, I fear they gave me their blessing nonetheless. I cannot ally myself with such a family.’ He proceeded to describe the dinner party. He was greatly offended when Amy laughed and laughed and finally said she had not heard anything quite so funny in ages.
‘But you cannot break off the engagement,’ cried Effy, glaring at Amy. ‘It would be a great scandal.’
‘Exactly. And that is why I am prepared to offer you three times as much as the Kendalls are paying you to persuade Maria that we should not suit.’
There was a long silence while both sisters looked at each other in dismay. Both had been sure the couple would not suit, but they gloried in this great success and that success was worth more than any money the duke could offer.
‘We will do our best,’ Effy heard Amy say.
When the duke had left, Effy flew at Amy crying, ‘How could you promise such a thing. Maria should have been consulted first.’
‘Shhh!’ snapped Amy. ‘Let me think!’
Effy plucked at one of her gauze shawls impatiently while Amy frowned horribly and drank port as if it were water.
‘Maria ain’t too bad,’ said Amy slowly, finally breaking a long silence. ‘Head full of dreams. Understandable. But she’s a lady. For all their faults, the Kendalls have turned her out a lady. It ain’t Maria that needs schooling, it’s the Kendalls.’
‘Whatever can you mean?’
‘I mean, let’s see if we can make a go of this. Berham’s a cold codface, I’ll grant you that, but he ain’t nasty or vicious. Make a tolerable husband and Maria can pretty much lead her own life once she’s produced a few heirs for him. And after all he’s put her through – no, don’t ask me. I was told in confidence – I think if she does turn him down, he should be made to hurt a little.
‘My plan is this. We get the Kendalls here and tell them flat out they are in danger of spoiling their daughter’s chances through their own vulgarity. If they scream with outrage and call off the wedding and drag Maria back to Bath, we’ll still get all that money from the duke. If they’ll listen to us, we’ll get to work on them and turn them out a couple of model society parents.’
Effy shook her head. ‘It would not work. It is different with the young. So hard to change the old.’
‘Nonsense. I’m going to send off an express today. And I’ll make sure they leave that Spiggs woman behind. Great mud-coloured simpering creature with a face like a whipped whore’s bum.’
‘Listening to the charm of your speech, sister dear,’ said Effy sarcastically. ‘I am sure you are just the lady to refine the Kendalls.’
They decided not to break the news to Maria of her parents’ possible visit to London until they had heard from them.
Lord Alistair Beaumont called that afternoon to ask permission to take Maria for a drive. The sisters gave their consent. Maria had told Amy that Beau had apologized for the scene at the inn, and he was such a handsome man with his long strong legs, curly black hair, and blue eyes that Amy secretly thought Maria would be much better off with him than with the duke.
Maria’s heart beat a little faster as she glanced sideways at Beau as he drove expertly through the traffic on the road to Hyde Park. He looked so much like that captain of her dreams.
He asked her if she was going to hear Catalini sing and Maria said ruefully that all her engagements were handled by the Tribbles and so she did not know. ‘I should think you will be there,’ he said with a smile. ‘Rum old birds, the Tribble sisters, from what I’ve heard. Always guaranteed to turn up at any leading society event. They’re a fixture and feature of any Season.’
‘I am extremely fond of them,’ said Maria quietly. ‘Particularly Miss Amy.’
‘Ah, your gallant captain.’
Maria blushed. ‘So you know?’
‘Of course I know. I was Berham’s second. What a coil. I don’t think anything like that ever happened to Berham in all his well-ordered stuffy life. Sorry. Shouldn’t have said that. Fact is, Amy Tribble should have been a man. She’d have been a regular rip.’
‘She is really very womanly.’ Maria thought compassionately of the glow in Amy’s eyes when she looked at Mr Haddon. ‘I disagree with you. I think she would have made some man of character an excellent wife.’
‘Too old for that now,’ said Beau brutally. ‘She must be over fifty and most of her contemporaries are dead.’
‘She does not seem old to me.’ Maria’s eyes misted over as she thought of Amy’s awkward kindness.
‘I declare I’ve upset you. What can I do to make amends?’ Beau reined in his horses and turned to look at her.
The day was fine and warm. Young leaves were budding on the sooty trees in the Park. Maria was wearing a gown of some soft green stuff that showed the excellence of her figure. She was frowning in thought. Then she looked up at him, her green eyes dancing, and he caught his breath. ‘I know,’ she said. ‘Although I do not know whether we are to attend the opera or not, I do know we are going to Mrs Marriot’s ball on Saturday. Why do you not ask Miss Amy to waltz with you!’
‘And that would please you?’
‘So very much.’
‘Done! For you I shall waltz with Miss Amy and take her into supper. Here comes your beloved.’
Maria looked ahead and a shadow crossed her face. Driving towards them at a smart pace was the Duke of Berham. He had very good eyesight. He saw Beau saying something and pointing in his direction with his whip. He saw Maria look straight at him and saw the worry mixed with trepidation and disappointment on her face. He should have felt glad, for surely such a look meant she was happier with Beau than she possibly could be in his company and that she would be glad to escape from the engagement. But he felt cross and angry.
He reined in his horses and pulled alongside Beau’s carriage.
He bowed to Maria and said, ‘I am sorry I have been neglecting you, but I have had many matters to attend to.’
‘Such as driving yourself in the Park,’ said Beau maliciously.
The duke gave him an unfathomable look from his black eyes. ‘I shall call on you tomorrow, Miss Kendall.’
‘At what time, your grace?’ asked Maria nervously.
‘At three o’clock.’
Maria’s face fell. She had planned to vis
it the Exeter Exchange in the Strand with Frederica. She had been looking forward to it immensely. ‘I regret I have an engagement at that time,’ she said.
The duke thought that the Tribbles had done their work very well and very quickly. ‘In that case, I shall see you on Saturday, when I call to escort you to the ball.’
‘Very good, your grace,’ said Maria meekly.
He bowed and drove off.
‘How formal you both are!’ exclaimed Beau.
‘Are we?’
‘Very much so. Do not look so miserable, I pray. Gunter’s has just received a new shipment of ice from Greenland. How would you like a strawberry ice?’
‘Lord Beaumont, what a splendid idea!’
They drove out of the Park and bowled past the Duke of Berham, who had stopped his carriage to talk to some friends. They were chatting and laughing and did not notice him. But the duke noticed them and felt he had offered too much money to the Tribbles. The task had obviously been an easy one.
The duke said goodbye to his friends and drove to Holles Street. Effy received him with many nervous flutterings. She found the duke quite intimidating and wished Amy had not gone to lie down.
‘I congratulate you both,’ said the duke. ‘I met Miss Kendall in the Park and I could judge from her manner that you had already been successful in persuading her that we should not suit.’
Animating Maria Page 7
