“I say!” Mr. Montgomery sounded hurt. “Well, it’s not as though she wasn’t old, and old people do die.”
“She was, I believe, not even seventy, and that is not old,” said Jane. “Moreover, starchy as she was, I liked her. I heard Pelham himself lay a bet that she would live into her eighties; a stupid young man whose first act with his inheritance is to pay out a debt of honour on a stupid bet.”
Montgomery flushed.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, with your interest in the Draisine, I rather forgot you were one of the dowagers yourself,” he said, “And might actually think of the other dowagers as real people.”
“Mr. Montgomery, I think of all mankind as real people, which has nothing to do with my age, and more about having been raised in a decent, Christian household. I had wondered about your brother’s intemperate comments about you, but since you both appear to have been dragged up anywise, with less care than the street brats who wondered at your machine, I believe I will cease to wonder. I had thought you showed good brotherly care for young Christopher, but it appears you are more shallow than I thought.”
Montgomery went dark red, and looked as though he was about to burst into tears. He fidgeted with his fobs.
“I ... I apologise, Lady Armitage. You are correct, we had very little in the way of parental upbringing. We had a succession of tutors until we went to school, but nobody .....” he slammed a fist into his other hand. “Some of the other chaps spoke of their mothers as though they loved them, gave them time and affection, we were permitted to admire our mother before she went out with father to balls and routs, but never to touch or kiss her, in case we left a mark.”
“You poor little boys,” said Jane. “I find that quite appalling. Your parents, are they dead?”
“Yes, there was a ball Mother especially wanted to go to, it was out of town, in the winter,” said Montgomery. “There was snow, and they got stuck in a drift. I don’t know if they could not get out and walk to the nearest house or if they assumed someone would rescue them, but they died of cold. It ... it meant nothing to Kit and me, because life was no different, and it’s not as if we knew them.”
“Well, my dear boy, you should know that many families are much closer. We would have brought my stepson with us, had he wanted to come, but he loves being in a proper school, now Mr. Redmayne has set it up, and with other pupils, so he decided not to join us, but it is the first time being apart from him since I agreed to marry his father, and I miss him sorely, and of course I write to him twice a week.”
“He is a lucky boy; I only ever got one letter from my mother in all the time I was at school, telling me how disappointed she was that the headmaster had needed to contact her about my behaviour. I don’t even recall what I had done,” he added.
“Well, it explains why you find it difficult to see older women, or indeed women, as people in their own rights, having no example of a mama or, I presume any caring woman in your life?”
He nodded.
“The headmaster’s wife was kind to the youngest boys but we didn’t know how to react,” he said. “I ... I don’t know if Pelham had any affection for his great aunt, but he always called her ‘the banker’, so I suppose not.”
“I suspect she was a stern guardian, but I believe she loved him, despite his faults,” said Jane. “Well, I hope she had other friends to mourn her sincerely, if her own closest flesh and blood will not. I personally consider the death of a woman, who was not old, in such circumstances to be about as likely as a Draisine cutting its own steering handle.”
Montgomery gaped.
“You think she was murdered?”
“Yes, Mr. Montgomery, I do think she was murdered. And yes, I know her nephew was elsewhere. Your brother was elsewhere when an attempt was made on your life, and now that I know what an affection-starved life you have led, I am truly wondering if it was he who made an attempt on your life as you are his banker.”
He jumped up.
“Kit would never do a thing like that, you take it back!” he cried.
“Sit down and act in a civilised manner, Mr. Montgomery,” said Jane. “If you are so certain, why are you acting so angrily, rather than laughing at me for a ridiculous idea?”
Mr. Montgomery sat down, rather stiffly
“I know he’s angry with me at the moment, but it’s because of the Draisine, and he is angry that I am riding it instead of driving out with him, or taking him fencing or to mills and so on,” he said, wearily. “I suggested getting another one, so we could go out together, and he said if I thought he was going to bounce his bollocks off on a .... Oh, Lady Armitage, I am most dreadfully sorry,” he said, paling as he realised his linguistic solecism.
“I forgive the word, Mr. Montgomery; I have heard it before,” said Jane. “It sounds to me as if that was as much dog-in-the-manger speaking as a refusal to take up a hobby for any practical consideration. My husband plans to add leaf springs to the seat for an increase in comfort, which, if your brother regrets his refusal, might be a way to save his face if you suggest it, as well as saving his more tender portions of anatomy.”
“By Jove, what a splendid idea!” said Mr. Montgomery.
Jane did not suggest ball bearings. It would not be a good idea to encourage a greater turn of speed to reckless young men.
“Very well. Now do not be too angry with your brother if he did something like this as a prank, to make you fall off, with the intention of damaging your dignity not your person,” said Jane.
“That, I could believe,” said Montgomery. “I was much upset that you would think he could mean me real harm; we were both all that each other had, and still are.”
“He does not resent your relationship with Coxsedge?”
Montgomery flushed scarlet.
“Ma’am, what can you mean?”
“You know what I mean, and we both know it should not be spoken about, and I hold no judgement for you providing Coxsedge is not coerced by his social superior. But if you have found another, then your brother might resent him.”
“No, he has never resented any ... friend ... I might have,” said Montgomery.
“Good; then that is disposed of as a motive. So now we look outside your immediate family, for Caleb is of the opinion that Coxsedge is innocent of the deed. Have you any enemies? Or any former ... friends ... who have reason to resent you?”
“No, I have usually been very careful,” said Montgomery.
“I noticed you having words with Mrs. Fielding,” said Jane.
Montgomery changed colour several times.
“I thought I knew her, but it was a case of mistaken identity,” he said.
“From where did you think you knew her? After all, you have told me you knew few if any women of our own class.”
“Do I have to speak about this? It’s wretchedly embarrassing,” he said, in a low, bitter voice.
“Mr. Montgomery, if you speak about it to Governess Jane, it will make it better,” said Jane.
He blinked.
“Do you think so?” he asked.
“I know so,” said Jane. “Once you have spoken about it, you can look at it, realise it is something you can put behind you, and then it will never embarrass you again.”
“Promise me you will not be angry if I shock you?”
“I will not be angry, and you must believe me when I tell you that it takes a lot to shock me.”
“I wish we’d had a governess and she had been like you,” said Mr. Montgomery.
“I wish you’d had a governess who had been like me,” sighed Jane. “You’d probably be a happier young man.”
“Yes,” agreed Mr. Montgomery. “Well, when I was thirteen, my father told me it was time to make a man of me. And ... and he took me to this ... place.”
“A brothel?” asked Jane.
“Yes,” said Montgomery in a low voice. “Told me he’d hired a bawdy-basket, er, a ... a .... one of the women there .... for the night to ... educate me.”<
br />
He buried his face in his hands. Jane poured him brandy, and put the glass into his hands. He drained it at a gulp.
“And you were so terrified that you found you could not perform and she laughed at you?” said Jane.
“How could you know that?” he gasped.
“This is why I can help my husband so much; I understand people,” said Jane. “It was scarcely your fault that you were unable to do as your father wished, and doubtless the wench was afraid that she would lose a fat fee, or would be beaten, if she had not done her best, and tried to shame you into compliance. They are not very well educated, these unfortunate women, and know no better.” Jane had acquired something of an education of real life both from Dorothy and from Henrietta Abercrombie, the former Holborn Hetty.
“Lady Armitage, you make my greatest shame so commonplace.”
“It was never commonplace for you, but alas, it is something which happens. You are not the only boy in the world with so mistaken a father, nor the only one who has found the whole experience too embarrassing to engage in the activity involved, even if you had not had alternative preferences. At that age a boy scarce knows what his preferences might be, even if he knows he prefers women, he has not usually chosen a type. You hold no responsibility nor blame for the incident. Am I to infer that you believed Mrs. Fielding to be the female in question?”
“No, ma’am, I thought she was the madam, who put me strongly in mind of the senior boys’ matron, whom one avoided seeing if at all possible,” said Mr. Montgomery. “Ma’am, are you going to have to tell your husband?”
“I’m afraid so, but remember, he has had raw recruits and subalterns under him when he was in the army, it won’t be new to him, either,” said Jane.
“Thank you, ma’am,” said Montgomery. “You were quite right, though,” he added, in great surprise. “Now I have talked about it, it is not such a ... a nightmare as it was, and I dare say I might never even get nightmares about it again.”
“Well, I certainly hope not,” said Jane. “Now you had best be on your way, as you will want to dress for dinner, and eat before sallying out, if you plan to attend Almack’s, as I am told that the refreshments leave much to be desired.”
“The bread is stale and the tea tastes like the cups are never washed,” said Montgomery.
Jane shuddered.
“Well, well, I am warned,” she said. “And, Mr. Montgomery! If you ever want to talk things through, I will be at home to you to do so.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
Caleb and Jane got together to compare notes, and Jane filled in her husband on what she had learned, with Nat on her lap, soliciting caresses. The pug was not keen on young men he did not know, probably as a result of much teasing from his former owner’s sons. He had played least in sight when Mr. Montgomery had been in the room, and wanted reassurance.
“Explains a lot,” said Caleb, as Jane told him what she had extracted from the young man. “Coxsedge talked to the boy, and is certain he did not do anything to the Draisine; indeed, the lad waxed indignant that anyone should have sabotaged his brother’s favourite toy, the younger Mr. Montgomery’s word, I believe, as it could have been risky if his brother had come off somewhere where he might have hit his head. And Coxsedge found the saw left buried in hay in the stables, and most indignant that the horses might have been hurt.”
“He did well, and is a good friend to his master,” said Jane. “He is in the relationship willingly?”
“Seems to be,” said Caleb, laconically. “Devoted, I’d have said.”
“Well, that’s one point of stability in that poor young man’s life, anyway,” sighed Jane.
Chapter 11
Almack’s was located in an unprepossessing building, but inside was all that could be desired of a romantic, glittering location. Knee breeches were de rigeur and it was said that even the Duke of Wellington had been turned away for wearing pantaloons. Caleb was impeccable in black satin smallclothes and black silk stockings, and wore a black neckcloth as his nod to his military background. He looked very severe and correct.
“I am going to enjoy mussing you later,” said Jane, eyeing him hungrily.
“I look forward to it, my lady,” said Caleb. “I’ll be enjoying unwrapping you, too, from all that glittering packaging.”
Jane smiled austerely, because she knew Caleb loved to know that her governess-face hid the passion she felt for him. She was dressed in a silver tissue slip under a sheer muslin gown of lavender, woven with satin-weave stripes in self-colour. It was trimmed with black ribbons shot with silver, and had been made over from the half-mourning she had worn for Frank, a gown she had had made up in York, when she had worn it over a black petticoat with dark purple ribbons. There was, after all, no point wasting perfectly good fabric. Diamonds were not considered proper for full mourning, but the Prince Regent had decreed a lot of leeway for the mourning for his mother, as she enjoyed dressing up and would not have wanted her beloved people to feel that she laid too onerous a hand on what they wore. Hence, Jane wore the demi-parure of necklace, earrings and several hair ornaments, and did so as a token of respect for Queen Charlotte as well as anticipating being called to book by the Regent, if he attended, if she did not wear them. It was heavy, but Jane had to admit that it looked very fine.
“Sir Caleb, do you waltz?” Lady Lieven came over to the couple.
“I can do, ma’am,” said Caleb. “I fear I will have to sit some dances out; though I’m largely recovered from Corunna, I can’t stand up for a whole evening.”
“Of course, that is quite understood. But I have a mind to permit a few ladies the waltz, but I want to make sure they are introduced to a safe gentleman with whom to take their first dance.”
“Of course, my lady,” Caleb bowed, disappointed that he was not to waltz with his lovely wife; but then, being too uxorious was frowned upon in polite society. Caleb thought this a load of rubbish, and could explain why there were so many badly behaved young people, who had not been reared firmly and with love.
“And will you introduce young men who need guidance through the waltz to me, Lady Lieven?” asked Jane.
“If you will be kind enough to put up with them, yes,” said Lady Lieven. “I will not guarantee the safety of your feet and shins.”
“I believe I am sufficiently adept on my feet to avoid too much damage,” said Jane. “I have come across some very wild dancers at provincial balls, where it is not merely the feet and lower legs which are in danger, but any part of the anatomy which a wildly flailing arm might reach.”
“Alas, such dancers are not entirely unknown even in London’s highest society,” said Lady Lieven. “However, you should be a little safer here at Almack’s. We frown upon high jinks, and hooching in the Scottish numbers is strictly forbidden.”
“You relieve my mind, ma’am,” said Jane, who always found it extraordinary that otherwise sober and sensible men, and some women, should feel it appropriate, and even necessary, to utter a loud cry of ‘Heuch!’ during the performance of a reel. “I could not think that such a thing would be at all tactful if the Prince Regent should happen to drop in.”
“No, indeed, and Almack’s have decreed that the reel will not even be danced until such time as we are out of mourning, because of the Jacobite attack.”
“I think that a very wise decision, ma’am,” said Jane.
Jane noticed that Miss Elizabeth Elliot was attending, and was currently having her ear bent by the beautiful Alexei Ivanovitch Kiasov, and the girl was looking bored. Jane caught the eye of Mrs. Elliot, who bowed and smiled. Apparently the strategy suggested by Caleb was working very well, as Miss Elliot looked up hopefully every time a young man approached the neophyte entrants to the social world, in the hopes of being asked to dance.
“Should I ask her to stand up with me?” asked Caleb. “At least she knows I am a safe person to dance with.”
“Do, poor silly creature,” said Jane. “Ah, no, you will n
ot have to do so, she has been solicited to dance by a young man whom I do not know, but as nobody has introduced them, I presume she knows him.”
“I think that’s Ashall; the new viscount,” said Caleb. “He’s heir to the Duchy of Braxtrode, and Braxtrode isn’t best pleased about it. I met him when I was at the coachmaker’s, ordering a Draisine, and we fell into conversation. The poor man’s son recently drowned, it seems he had fallen in the river when fishing. He wasn’t much older than Simon, so I said all that was proper, and meant it, which I think he recognised. He has three daughters, all older than his boy, whose birth cost his wife her life, after a long illness. A sad affair all round, as it seems he adored his wife, but he’s thinking of remarrying, just to dispossess Paul Strode, his current heir. I told him to consider marrying the governess, unless she was past her last prayer, since at least he would know she got on well with his daughters.”
“And what did he say?”
“He laughed, but looked thoughtful.”
“Should I feel suspicious about the death by drowning of an active youth?”
“I don’t know, Jane-girl, I really don’t. Death by drowning is a very common accident, and it was in October, when it is conceivable that cold was a factor in his death. We cannot see every sudden death as suspicious, but equally we cannot discount every death. I hope Popham will produce us a report on Lady Julia soon, you asked him for everything I would have been able to think of, too.”
“We make a good partnership, I think,” said Jane. “Oh, look, there is Miss Evans, I wish you will stand up with her, so she does not have to sit out the first dance, all those young fools are round Miss Fielding like bees round a honey pot.”
“As my lady requires,” said Caleb. “A pleasant young lady, Miss Evans.”
“My lady, may I have the pleasure?” it was Beau Popham. Jane noticed that he modified the excesses of his garb for the halls of Almacks, and was faultless in black smallclothes and stockings, a plain black coat, and only the silver tissue waistcoat embroidered in lavender, grey and black a sartorial rebellion against the conventional.
Jane and the Sins of Society Page 9
