He was an elderly man whom she had brought from London because he was so reliable.
“Goodnight, Danvers,” she said from the top of the stairs.
“Goodnight, my Lady. I hope your Ladyship had a pleasant evening. There’s a number of messages for your Ladyship.”
“I will see them in the morning,” Lady Roysdon said hastily and went into her bedroom.
A maid was waiting up for her, but she was old and sleepy. She knew that her mistress disliked talking in the early hours of the morning, so she undressed her in silence.
Only as she picked up her gown to carry it from the room did she glance at the jewel box on the dressing table and say,
“Your emeralds, my Lady, where are they?”
“I took them off for safety, Hannah,” Lady Roysdon replied.
“For safety, your Ladyship?”
“Yes, there are highwaymen and footpads about. You must have seen notices up in the town warning visitors to be on their guard.”
“Yes, of course, my Lady, but the new groom carries a blunderbuss, I believe.”
If Jake did carry one, he certainly had not used it, Lady Roysdon thought to herself, but aloud she said,
“It’s all right, Hannah, don’t worry. We will talk about it in the morning.”
“Of course, my Lady. You’re ’ome safe and sound that’s all what matters.”
She went from the room closing the door behind her, but instead of climbing into bed Lady Roysdon crossed the floor carrying a candle in her hand to look at herself in the mirror on the dressing table.
It seemed to her that her eyes were shining in a strange manner, her lips were very soft and redder than she remembered them.
It was not due to salve, because she had not applied any since she had left Brighton after a dinner party to drive to the ball.
The colour of her lips and the sparkle in her eyes came, she knew, from having been kissed – kissed not by a man she knew, but by a man she had only partially seen, a felon, a criminal – a highwayman!
‘I must be crazed!’ she whispered to herself.
And yet it was impossible to forget the sensations his lips had aroused in her, the warmth, the constriction in her throat, the sudden pain like the point of a dagger, then the ecstasy beyond anything she had thought or imagined was possible.
She stood looking at herself. Then suddenly, as if she could not bear what she saw, she blew out the candle.
Groping in the darkness of the room, she found her way to bed to hide her face in the soft pillow.
Chapter Two
Lady Roysdon awoke in the morning in a very different mood.
After all, however she might have behaved last night, she was the wife of a Peer and of great Social importance. Looking back on what had occurred she came to the conclusion that it was a clear case of ‘moon madness’.
It was difficult to think what she could have done to prevent herself from being kissed, but she was sure that she could have thought of something had she given her mind to it.
As it was, it was an episode that should be quickly forgotten.
What was far more important was to deal competently with the Earl of Sheringham, who would doubtless be suffering from pique due to the blow to his pride.
It was usual in the morning, as soon as she was dressed and had dealt with the innumerable letters and invitations that were waiting for her, to walk on the Steine.
It was a broad thoroughfare where the roads from London and Lewes joined and ran down to the sea and had become the most fashionable promenade in Brighton.
After all one came to Brighton for the good of one’s health and the sea air was, according to the doctors, a remedy for every known disorder.
But she had the uncomfortable feeling that the air would not disperse the sensations she still felt within her when she thought of the highwayman.
Nevertheless there was no point in not finding out if the sea air could be as effective in this as in many other disorders.
Accordingly, dressed in a new gown of strawberry pink muslin and wearing with it one of the high-crowned bonnets that were the very latest mode, she stepped out into the sunshine.
She was conscious that she was looking her best and her eyes were certainly wider and more brilliant than usual.
The most fashionable time for walking on the Steine was at four o’clock in the afternoon when the Prince himself promenaded with Mrs. Fitzherbert on his arm, bowing with a grace that was universally admired to acquaintances or greeting favoured friends with literally open arms.
West of the Royal Crescent stood Mrs. Fitzherbert’s attractive new house, which had been built for her by William Porden at the cost of six thousand pounds.
Next door was a rather larger one in which during his occasional visits to the sea the Duke of Marlborough was looked after by a staff of forty servants.
Nearby was the Prince’s Marine Pavilion, altered in recent years by Henry Holland’s nephew and assistant who had made it appear less classically austere by adding green tent-shaped metal canopies to the balconies.
He had also built on two oval rooms, one a dining room and the other a drawing room, which were like wings projecting at angles from the Eastern front.
The Prince had considered altering the appearance of the Pavilion in a far more drastic way, but once again it was a question of money.
So he had for the moment to be contented with building stables and an immense structure in the Indian style called a ‘riding house’.
This, under a huge central cupola eighty-five feet wide, provided stabling for fifty-four horses, as well as accommodation for ostlers and grooms.
As the Prince was never happier than when he was building, altering and furnishing, it was not surprising that he enjoyed staying at Brighton perhaps more than in the completed magnificence of Carlton House.
He went to bed late and rose very late and most mornings he could be seen sitting on the balcony of Mrs. Fitzherbert’s house.
It was popularly believed, although Lady Roysdon considered it to be only a rumour, that there was an underground passage from there to the Pavilion.
Whatever the route His Royal Highness used, as soon as her promenade took her in sight of Mrs. Fitzherbert’s house, Lady Roysdon could see him leaning over the balcony and talking to some friends on the ground below.
She was not surprised to notice that beside him was Richard Brinsley Sheridan, who was not only one of the Prince’s closest and most indulged companions but was also, Lady Roysdon was inclined to think, a disruptive influence on everyone he came into contact with.
Despite his age, he was fifty-five this year, Sheridan still behaved like a wild young man.
When he stayed at the Pavilion, he kept everyone in fits of laughter and tense with apprehension as to what he would do next.
As soon as he arrived in Brighton this year, he had come into the drawing room of a Nobleman’s house disguised as a Police Officer to arrest the Dowager Lady Sefton for playing some unlawful game.
Another evening he had crept among the Prince’s guests during an exhibition of phantasmagoria and in the darkness he had sat down on the lap of the haughtiest lady in the room!
She had been extremely incensed by the laughter that ensued.
“But it is difficult to be angry with him for long,” Mrs. Fitzherbert had said to Lady Roysdon. “He goes into the kitchen at any hour that he feels hungry and by cajoling the servants and telling them that if he was the Prince Regent they would have much better accommodation, he gets everyone waiting on him!”
Mrs. Fitzherbert had given a little sigh.
“I don’t approve of him and I condemn all his follies and debaucheries, but I cannot deny that he makes me laugh.”
This morning Lady Roysdon did not particularly feel like laughing with Sheridan or for that matter with the Prince.
She also had an uncomfortable feeling that at any moment the balcony would reveal a third person in the shape of the Earl o
f Sheringham.
Accordingly, responding with a curtsey to the Prince’s genial wave and pretending not to understand that he was beckoning her to come into the house, she walked on.
If she was questioned later, she would say that she wished to visit Donaldson’s Royal Circulating Library.
This was always a popular occupation with visitors to Brighton and she had not gone far before she encountered another of the Prince Regent’s friends, the eccentric Mr. Mellish.
He was amongst the younger and more frivolous members of fashionable Society. To draw attention to himself he had chosen white not only for the colour of his carriage, his horses and his servants’ liveries, but also dressed himself to match them.
Lady Roysdon considered him a bore and she knew that he only paid court to her because she was the fashion.
She really preferred, if she was forced to make a choice, the Honourable Tony Onslow whose chief claim to fame was that some years earlier he had driven a phaeton and four horses through the gates of the Steine twenty-five times without touching the posts.
If Mr. Mellish was all in white, Tony Onslow was all in black.
Another individual, who was seen frequently on the Steine, attracted attention by even more eccentric methods.
He was known as ‘The Green Man’ and was always dressed in green pantaloons, a green waistcoat, green coat and green cravat.
It was said that he ate nothing but greens, fruit and vegetables. His rooms were painted green and he slept in a green bed with green curtains.
Lady Roysdon saw him coming now in his green gig with his servants wearing green livery and green wigs.
Everybody was staring at him and, as Lady Roysdon was doing the same, one of her friends, Lady Dorridge, stopped beside her.
“He’s fantastic, is he not, Galatea?” she sighed.
“I think he must be mad!” Lady Roysdon replied.
“He is certainly the craze in Brighton,” Lady Dorridge agreed. “His name is Cope and with all his eccentricity he is in fact a gentleman.”
“At least he gives everyone something to talk about,” Lady Roysdon smiled. “How are you, Averil?”
“Do not ask me – that.”
“Why not? What is wrong?”
Lady Roysdon looked at her friend and realised her pretty face showed signs of recent tears and there was a droop to her lips.
Lady Dorridge was in fact a very pretty woman, but she was not often seen in Society simply because Sir Edmund Dorridge had not been at all wealthy.
She occasionally stayed with her mother-in-law in London, however, which was where she and Lady Roysdon had met, but she spent most of her time in a small house at Brighton with her two daughters who were still young enough to build sandcastles on the beach.
“What is wrong, Averil?” Lady Roysdon asked again and, as her friend did not answer, she said,
“Come home with me and let’s have a cup of coffee together. It is unlike you to have a fit of the dismals.”
That was true, for despite the fact that she had had to pinch and save a great deal in her life Lady Dorridge had always been cheerful.
Her husband had died three months ago, but, because she had fair hair and blue eyes, her mourning became her.
As they turned round and walked back the way she had come, Lady Roysdon was thinking it should not be very long before Averil found herself another husband.
As once again they passed Mrs. Fitzherbert’s house, Lady Roysdon saw that she had been right in her assumption that the Earl of Sheringham would join the Prince on the balcony.
She gave him a little wave of her hand and knew by the unsmiling manner he stared at her that he was incensed at the way she had evaded him the night before.
Sooner or later she would have to listen to his reproaches and his reiterated assertion that he would not be treated in such a way.
Her heart sank, knowing she hated above all things an altercation with anyone, and most of all with the Earl of Sheringham.
To take her mind off him and other events that had happened the previous evening, she talked vivaciously about the ball given by Lord Manston until they had reached her house.
“We will have coffee in the morning room, Fulton,” Lady Roysdon said to the butler.
Then, drawing her friend into the small comfortable morning room on the ground floor, which overlooked the Steine, she suggested,
“Now we are alone and you can tell me all about it.”
“I should not burden you with my troubles,” Lady Dorridge said in a voice that tried to sound brave but failed.
“You know perfectly well that I cannot see you so low and not find out the reason for it,” Lady Roysdon replied. “Take off your bonnet, Averil, and let’s be comfortable.”
She removed her own headgear as she spoke and Lady Dorridge did likewise, smoothing down her pretty fair hair with fingers that trembled.
“Now tell me what has happened,” Lady Roysdon urged her, sitting beside her friend on the sofa.
“It is – Francis, my brother-in-law.”
“Sir Francis? I did not know the Baronet was in Brighton.”
“He came to see me yesterday, making the journey from London for the express purpose of doing so.”
“And what did he have to say?”
“He told me that he intends to halve the allowance he has hitherto made me for myself and the two children,” Lady Dorridge said in a low voice.
“But that is intolerable!” Lady Royston exclaimed angrily. “It is little enough in all conscience. I cannot see how you could manage.”
“That is not all.”
“What else?”
“He insisted that I give him my diamond necklace.”
“I cannot believe it!” Lady Roysdon cried.
“It is true. He said that it belonged to the family and was never intended to be my personal property.”
“But it is yours! You told me so ages ago when your husband gave it to you on your birthday.”
“That is right. Edward spent far more than he could afford on it simply because he wanted it to be a ‘nest egg’ for myself and the children.”
“I remember you telling me that at the time.”
“He said, ‘I am giving you this, darling, because I doubt if I can leave you very much money’,” Lady Dorridge related and there were tears in her eyes. “He told me that when necessary I could sell it and it would provide me with at least some years of comfort and pay for the girls’ gowns when they make their debut.”
“Did you not tell Sir Francis all this”
“Of course I told him,” Lady Dorridge replied, “but he would not listen. He just said that if Edward had bought anything so valuable it was with money that belonged to the Dorridges and not to me.”
Lady Roysdon rose to her feet.
“The man is a brute! I have met him a few times in your company, but I disliked him on sight.”
“He has always – hated me. He did not think I was – good enough for his – brother.”
Averil Dorridge’s voice broke on the words and now the tears in her blue eyes spilled over and ran down her cheeks.
She looked very attractive when she cried, Lady Roysdon thought, but there was no gentleman present to console her and it was difficult to see how she herself could do so.
“You know, Averil, you can always rely on – ” she began.
“No, Galatea, don’t say it!” Lady Dorridge interrupted. “You have always been so sweet and generous to me and to the children, but you are well aware that I cannot take money from you. I have my pride just as you have yours.”
Lady Roysdon tried to think.
She knew her friend would find it intolerable to be an object of charity.
At the same time she could not leave her to struggle without enough money to pay her servants or any sort of education for her two little girls.
“I suppose you could go to the Courts and prove that the necklace really belongs to you,” she said reflec
tively.
“How can I prove it?” Averil Dorridge enquired. “Even if you and all my friends were kind enough to bear witness that it was a gift, Francis would somehow prove that Edward could not have had so much money to spend on me unless he had obtained it in some underhand manner from the family estate.”
Lady Roysdon knew this to be true.
She was certain that Sir Edward in fact must have sold a number of cottages or perhaps some acres of land to obtain the money, knowing that when he died, since he had no son, everything would pass into the hands of his brother.
As if she knew what her friend was thinking, Averil Dorridge put her handkerchief up to her eyes and sobbed,
“If only I could have had a son! Edward longed for one and so did I. But after Caroline was born it was – impossible for me to have any – more.”
Her voice broke completely on the last word and now she was crying helplessly. Lady Roysdon could only put her arms around her and say consolingly,
“It will be all right. I promise you it will be all right, Averil. We will think of something.”
“What can we – think of?” Lady Dorridge sobbed.
“Where is Sir Francis at this moment?” Lady Roysdon enquired.
She would go to him, she thought, and give him, if nothing else, a piece of her mind. Perhaps too she could get the Prince Regent to speak to him.
But, even as she considered it, she had the feeling that Sir Francis was not interested in the Social life and would therefore pay little or no attention to anything the Prince might say.
He was the type of man, and there were a great many of them, who denounced in no uncertain terms the Prince Regent’s extravagance and considered that His Royal Highness set a bad example to the whole nation by his profligacy.
‘At least I could try,’ Lady Roysdon said to herself.
Aloud she asked,
“Where is your brother-in-law?”
“He stayed at The Castle Inn last night and today he told me he was engaged on business matters with Solicitors and land agents until this evening when he is leaving after dinner for Shoreham.”
The Outrageous Lady Page 3
