Honorable Doctor, Improper Arrangement

by Mary Nichols

  He smiled at the child’s excitement. The clothes were far finer than anything she had ever owned before and he wondered if the temptation to sell them might be too much for her poor parents to resist, but he was careful not to say it aloud. ‘I have arranged to take you home tomorrow, Annie.’ He looked up at Kate and swallowed hard, trying to keep his voice level. ‘Mrs Smith is home from hospital and anxious to have her daughter back and the sooner the better, don’t you think? You need time…’

  ‘Yes,’ she said flatly, but it was not time she needed, but the courage to tell Robert she could not marry him.

  ‘I will come at eleven o’clock, if that is convenient.’

  ‘Perfectly.’

  He left them and carried on to visit his aunt at her cousin Emmeline’s in Duke Street. The two ladies were entertaining. The widowed Lady Woodham was the same age as Lady Redfern, both in their fifties, both a little plump, both lovers of gossip.

  ‘What have you been doing with yourself?’ Lady Redfern enquired of him, after they had greeted him effusively.

  ‘Oh, this and that,’ he said evasively, glad that Isobel was not present.

  ‘Looking after your bantlings.’ Lady Woodham, being his aunt’s confidante, had heard of the way in which he spent much of his time.

  ‘Good God! They are your children, then.’

  Simon swung round to face Captain Feltwell, the man who had so disconcerted Kate when they crossed his path the other day. She had not commented on the man’s mocking action, but he had seen it. ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘Saw you with them in Hyde Park. With Mrs Meredith. Thought she was the children’s governess until I met her at the Embassy ball. Introduced to me by Viscount Cranford.’

  ‘I have met the gentleman.’

  ‘Then you will know she is engaged to marry him.’

  ‘Yes, I do. I wish them happy.’

  ‘Not the done thing, you know.’ The Captain had the bit between his teeth and was not about to let it go. ‘Taking another man’s intended into the park to play with your children, and being seen out and about with her, driving her in your gig. Don’t look good, don’t you know. Don’t look good at all.’

  ‘It might not look good to someone who thrives on gossip, adding two and two and making five, but then not everyone is so petty-minded, I am glad to say.’

  It was a fierce put down and the young man retreated with a red face, but Simon knew he and Kate were courting trouble to be seen out so often in each other’s company and he ought to be the strong one and put a stop to it. She, who would never believe ill of anyone if she could help it, would not expect others to believe ill of her, but life was not like that and with people like Captain Feltwell about, it only took a word here and there to ruin her for ever. He did not care for himself, but it might hurt her. After he had fetched Annie, he would have no reason to visit Kate and perhaps that would be for the best.

  Saying goodbye did not get any easier, Kate thought, as she turned from watching Simon driving Annie away in his gig and went back indoors. The house seemed empty and quiet and she felt very flat. She would miss the children, their happy laughter, even their tantrums and quarrels, and she would miss Dr Redfern more than she could put into words. He had become a presence in her life, someone to whom she could turn whenever she had a problem, and it was not only about the children. He was there in her head, in her heart, like a comforting cloak. That set her thinking about Robert and her future life with him and she knew she could not face it.

  She went to find her grandmother, who was sitting in the drawing room, reading one of Jane Austen’s books, her spectacles perched on the end of her nose. She looked over them at her granddaughter. ‘Have they gone?’

  ‘Yes.’ She took a deep breath and sat on a stool at her feet. ‘Grandmama, what would happen if I told the Viscount I could not marry him?’

  The old lady dropped her book with a clatter and snatched her spectacles from her nose. ‘Are you contemplating that?’

  ‘Yes. I do not love him and I do not think he loves me.’

  ‘Kate, that is romantic nonsense. Love is not all there is to a marriage. It is perfectly possible to be content without it.’

  ‘Not for me.’

  ‘You know what the consequences of calling off will be, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes, I will be branded a jilt, but I can put up with that. It is not me I worry about but how it would affect you and Papa and James and Lizzie.’

  ‘My dear child, we would weather the storm far better than you would, but his lordship will be furious.’

  Kate managed a smile. ‘Furious, yes, disappointed, perhaps, but not heartbroken.’

  ‘Kate, have you thought about this carefully?’

  ‘I have thought about nothing else since the Viscount came back from France. Everything about him is wrong for me. He is top-lofty and arrogant and he does not like children. I wish I had known that before I agreed to marry him, but he never showed that side of his character when he first came to call, or in his letters.’

  ‘Then you must tell him.’

  ‘I intend to do that. I just wanted to know I have your support. What do you think Papa will say?’

  ‘Much the same as I did, I expect.’

  That proved to be true. If anything, her father was more supportive than her grandmother. ‘There can be nothing worse than a loveless marriage,’ he said. ‘I always did think the man was wrong for you.’

  She had flung herself into his arms and hugged him. ‘Oh, thank you, Papa, thank you.’

  Now all that was left was to tell Robert and she was dreading it, but the sooner it was done, the better. She sent a note round to his house by the gardener’s boy.

  Robert arrived later that afternoon. She received him in the drawing room, standing alone in the middle of the room. He bowed, she curtsied.

  ‘Katherine, what is this about?’ he asked. ‘Your note said it was urgent. I had to leave an important meeting.’

  ‘My lord,’ she said and swallowed hard. ‘There is something I must say to you.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘I am afraid I cannot marry you.’

  He stared at her for several seconds before finding his voice. ‘Not marry me?’

  ‘No, I find that, after all, we should not suit each other.’

  ‘Oh, this is mere nerves,’ he said. ‘You will get over that. I am persuaded it happens all the time.’

  ‘So it may, my lord, to giddy young débutantes, but I am a mature woman and I have been married before. I do not think you can dismiss what I say as mere nerves. I have thought about it very carefully. In truth, I have thought of little else for the past three weeks. I…’ She gulped. ‘I do not love you and, if you are honest, you will admit you do not love me.’

  He still did not want to believe her. ‘Who has put this idea into your head? It was Redfern, I’ll wager.’

  ‘No, it was not,’ she protested, but her cheeks flamed at the very mention of Simon’s name.

  ‘I will sue,’ he said. ‘He will rue the day he ever interfered in my life.’

  ‘Sue, my lord?’ she asked, puzzled.

  ‘Yes, for enticing you away from me, to whom you have been affianced for some months. It is a binding contract and I am entitled to satisfaction.’

  ‘You would never challenge him to a duel?’ She was horrified by his reaction. She had expected him to be disappointed, a little angry perhaps, but not vindictive.

  ‘I could, but there are other ways to make him pay without shedding blood. I will take him through the courts. His name will be blackened beyond repair.’

  ‘Oh, no,’ she exclaimed. ‘He has done nothing, nothing at all. Believe me, my lord, he has nothing to do with my decision.’

  ‘Give me leave to doubt it.’ He paused, looking at her thoughtfully, making her feel uncomfortably transparent. ‘If you insist on this foolish course, then I will have no choice, but, my dear, on sober reflection I am sure you will realise that, for every
one’s sake, it would be better to forget that we have had this conversation and go on as before. Marriage to me will not be so very bad. I am not an ogre. I can give you everything you can possibly want, a home, children, jewels and clothes. I am prepared to be generous.’

  ‘But why do you want to marry me? You do not love me, do you?’

  ‘Love! That is sentimental nonsense. I need to marry and you have all the right requirements. Your antecedents are impeccable and, as you have been married before, you know what is expected of you—you are young enough to give me a healthy heir.’

  ‘How cynical you are. Have you never been in love?’

  ‘I once thought so, but I soon learned not to trust it. Now we will not speak of it again. You will marry me and we shall deal comfortably with each other.’

  ‘Supposing I say I will not.’

  ‘Then, my dear, you know the consequences.’

  She stared at him. Never in her wildest dreams had she expected him to blackmail her into submission. She wanted to defy him, to tell him to do his worst, but who would suffer most from that? Not her, but her father and grandmother and Simon, who was good and true and had never even hinted he had feelings for her. He might have lived down that broken engagement, but it would not take much for the story to be resurrected and he would lose his good name and everything he had worked so hard for. She could not subject him to that. And Robert knew it!

  She turned and fled to her room, where she sat on her bed, too angry to cry. She railed against it, punched her pillow and opened her mouth to scream, but no sound emerged. She heard voices in the hall as Susan showed him out of the front door and then the girl came up and knocked on her door.

  ‘His lordship says he hopes you will soon recover from your megrim and he will call for you to go to Lady Podmore’s ball as arranged,’ she said.

  Pretending to be looking forward to the wedding and going ahead with all the preparations was dreadfully difficult. She had not told her father and grandmother about the blackmail, but simply said Robert had persuaded her to change her mind. She went about in a dream, which everyone put down to anticipation of her coming nuptials and the move to Austria. She told everyone she was looking forward to living in Vienna; she had heard it was a beautiful city in beautiful surroundings; she would write and tell them all about it and she hoped they would write back and keep her in touch with everything that was happening at home.

  After the children had gone she had not had the heart to send Joan away and had offered to keep her on as her personal maid. That Joan had no idea of the work of a lady’s maid was, in Kate’s opinion, of no importance at all. Before they left for Austria, she would learn a little from Corinne, her grandmother’s maid, and pick the rest up as she went along. She had no doubt that they would both make many mistakes along the way, but that would all be part of the big adventure. It was play acting, all of it play acting. The reality was very different.

  She missed the children and found herself wandering about their empty rooms, wishing they were still there. She wondered how they were faring. Were Mr and Mrs Barber dealing well together now and treating Joe lovingly? Was Annie’s mother well enough to look after her? Was Michael keeping out of mischief and Sarah content to wait to see what Simon had arranged for her? And Simon? What was he doing? Did he ever think of her? He had no reason to call on her now, nor she to go to him, and the emptiness in her home and in her heart was not only caused by the absence of the children. She missed Simon. It was like a great aching lump that would not go away.

  She would go to the schoolroom and stand looking out of the window, remembering the way they danced together; the feel of his warm hand over hers; the way he sat on the sofa with one of his long legs flung casually over its arm; the sound of him playing the pianoforte, which had not been used for years and was sadly out of tune; the way he hoisted Joe on his shoulders without giving a thought to the damage the child’s boots were doing to his smart clothes. His chuckle. He would not be easily forgotten, could not be forgotten at all.

  The evening of Lady Podmore’s ball arrived. She had not seen the Viscount since their confrontation and was dreading it, but, for Simon’s sake, she must not falter.

  She had chosen to wear a pale blue crepe gown with an open front, over an embroidered satin slip. It had puff sleeves and a bodice caught under the bosom with a cluster of silk flowers in several shades of pink, from which floated long blue satin ribbons. The neckline was low and dipped down to the posy of flowers. She would have preferred to wear her sapphire necklace, but decided Robert would expect her to wear the diamonds. She reached into the drawer of her dressing table for the box, but could not find it.

  She turned the drawer out. Her pearls were there, so was the sapphire necklace, together with a brooch of garnets set in silver. There were some pearl eardrops, her mother’s wedding ring and a silver crucifix her father had given her to mark her confirmation. All her valuables were there except the diamond necklace.

  ‘Joan, have you seen my diamonds?’ she asked the girl who was standing behind her, hairbrush in hand, mouth agape at what seemed to her to be untold treasures.

  ‘No, ma’am. What do they look like?’

  ‘White stones set in gold, graded by size with the largest set in a drop from the middle.’

  ‘Oh, that one. No, ma’am, I ain’t seen it, not since you wore it to go to the ball. When did you have it last?’

  Kate tried to think back. Had she seen it since the Embassy ball? She did not think so. ‘I must have put it somewhere else for safety, or perhaps it was accidentally wrapped up in my ball gown.’ Beginning to panic, she pulled everything out of her clothes press, her drawers and cupboards. It was not to be found.

  ‘Hev someone took it, do you think?’ Joan asked timidly.

  ‘No, I have simply mislaid it.’ She did not want even to begin to think it had been stolen. She hurried to her grandmother’s room, where the old lady was dressed in purple silk and having her coiffure arranged by Corinne.

  ‘I shall not be long,’ she told Kate, looking this way and that in her dressing mirror. ‘If this creation manages to hold together. Are you ready?’

  ‘No, Grandmama, I have lost Robert’s diamond necklace.’

  ‘Lost it!’ Her ladyship swivelled round, pulling her white tresses from Corinne’s grasp and making the maid mutter under her breath.

  ‘I cannot find it anywhere. You have no idea where it can be, have you?’

  ‘No, why should I know? Where have you looked?’

  ‘Everywhere. It will soon be time to leave and if I have not found it by then, what am I to say to the Viscount?’

  ‘We had better search your room.’

  ‘I have done that.’

  ‘Then do it again. And if you still do not find it, we will get everyone searching the house. It cannot be lost.’

  But it was. A thorough search revealed nothing. The servants were questioned closely, although Kate refused to believe that any of them had taken it. Apart from Joan, they had all been in the Vicar’s employ for years and years and there had never been a hint of wrongdoing. There was Joan, of course, but she was Susan’s sister and was looking forward to her job as Kate’s maid. She would not be so foolish as to put that in jeopardy.

  She burst into tears on being questioned by the Reverend, who was in his evening clothes and ready to go, and had been impatiently pacing the drawing room, waiting for the ladies to appear. ‘What would I want with somethin’ like that?’ she demanded between sobs. ‘I’m a good girl. I never stole so much as a farthin’ in me whole life.’

  ‘Kate, I hate to say this,’ her father said. ‘but it is my belief it was one of the charity children, probably Michael.’

  ‘Oh, no, surely not. And why would he or anyone else take a single item and leave all the rest behind?’

  ‘One item might not be missed as quickly as if everything had been taken. It was a sly thing to do and you have to admit, Michael is very wily. We had better call
in the Watch.’

  ‘No, don’t do that,’ Kate said. She did not want to believe it was Michael, but could anyone have come in from outside and gone to her room without being seen, taken the necklace and disappeared, leaving behind everything else that was of value? It did not make sense. It had to be someone who knew what it was and where to find it. ‘I could not bear it. Can we not leave it to Dr Redfern? I am sure he could find out the truth.’

  ‘And what will you tell the Viscount? I doubt he would be prepared to leave it to the doctor.’

  ‘I shan’t tell him. Not tonight anyway. I will wear my sapphires; if he asks, I shall tell him they match my gown better than the diamonds.’

  ‘On your head be it,’ her grandmother said. ‘Telling untruths to your fiancé is hardly a good beginning to a betrothal.’

  ‘It isn’t an untruth. The sapphires are more suitable.’

  ‘Very well. Go and put them on and we must be off. We are prodigiously late already.’

  Kate went back to her own room to put on the necklace and have her coiffure completed.

  Half an hour later they were all three in the carriage and making their way to Podmore House. Kate was worried. Supposing the diamonds were never found? Robert would be furious. He would say his dislike of the charity children had been vindicated and find a way to blame Simon. It would revive all his animosity towards the doctor and she did not want his name brought up again between them. Nor did she want to believe the children had anything to do with it. But what other explanation was there? She made herself put her worries to the back of her mind as they arrived and she put on a smiling face.

  Robert was standing beside Lady Podmore, a plump lady of advanced years, who was noted for her lavish entertainments. Robert was elegantly dressed in a black evening coat, blue waistcoat and narrow trousers caught under the instep of his dancing pumps with straps. His shirt was immaculately frilled and his cravat a credit to his valet. For all that he was looking decidedly ill at ease and it occurred to Kate he might have been wondering if she would turn up.