“Why should he be going there?” Lady Roysdon enquired.
“His sister – my sister-in-law – has a house on the other side of the town.”
“Would she help?”
“No. Miriam will agree with Francis in every particular. She was always jealous and is unhappily married, so she used to try to cause trouble between Edward and me.”
“You certainly seem to have picked yourself a most unpleasant collection of in-laws!” Lady Roysdon remarked.
“I did try – I really did try, Galatea, to make them like me, but they had wanted Edward, because he was so handsome, to marry an heiress. They even had one picked out for him and when he married me they resented it.”
“You made Edward very happy and surely that is the only thing that matters?” Lady Roysdon asked.
“I must think of the – children,” Lady Dorridge said helplessly.
“I am thinking about them,” Lady Roysdon replied.
She rose from the sofa as she spoke and walked across the room to the window.
The sunshine was golden on the Steine. A gentle wind from the sea was blowing the ladies’ thin skirts and fluttering the ostrich feathers in their bonnets.
High-perched phaetons drawn by well-bred horses, gentlemen riding obstreperous stallions, children running excitedly down to the beach, all made a very attractive scene.
Behind her Lady Roysdon was aware that her friend was still crying and that something must be done to assuage her tears.
Suddenly she knew the answer.
It had been there at the back of her mind ever since the first moment that Averil Dorridge had spoken of losing her necklace.
‘I, too, have lost a necklace,’ Lady Roysdon thought, ‘but for a very different reason.’
Annoying though the loss might be, it was not in her case a tragedy. She had other necklaces, a great number of them, no less valuable and no less attractive.
But Averil Dorridge had nothing except her memories and they would not pay the tradesmen’s bills.
For a moment she told herself that what she contemplated doing was impossible – quite impossible. Then she knew that it was the only thing she could do in loyalty and in fact the idea positively appealed to her.
‘It would be an act of justice for one thing,’ she argued to herself.
Then insidiously a little voice asked,
‘And for what other reason?’
She turned from the window.
“I have an idea of how I can help you, Averil.”
“I will not take money from you, Galatea,” Lady Dorridge replied. “For one thing it would spoil our relationship and that I could not bear.”
“I am not offering you money,” Lady Roysdon answered, “and you cannot stop me from giving the girls some new dresses that I have been meaning to buy for them ever since I came to Brighton.”
“You are too kind to us,” Averil Dorridge said automatically and then added as she was curious, “but how else can you help me?”
“I mean to get your necklace back for you!”
Lady Dorridge shook her head and the glint of hope that had been in her blue eyes disappeared.
“Francis will never part with it. He is not only tenacious, he is as mean as a miser when it comes to money. When I left Dorridge Park, he barely allowed me to bring away the few trinkets and possessions I had owned since I was a girl.”
“He is quite abominable!” Lady Roysdon said, “and somehow I will see to it that he gets his desserts. Just leave everything to me, Averil.”
“But – what can you do?”
“I will tell you after I have done it. In the meantime stop crying and do not give up hope.”
Lady Dorridge wiped her eyes almost fiercely.
“I will do as you tell me because I always have, but if you are going to speak to Francis, he will not listen to you. He – he disapproves of you.”
“That I can well believe and, if anything could incite me to be reckless and even abandoned, it would be by ensuring that I incur Sir Francis’s disapproval.”
“No – please, Galatea, don’t do anything wild,” Lady Dorridge begged her.
“Perhaps I intend to do something wilder than I have ever done before.”
“No! No!” Averil Dorridge protested. “People say such unkind things about you! They have no idea in reality how kind, sympathetic and understanding you are.”
Lady Roysdon smiled.
“You are very sweet to champion me, Averil.”
“I love you, Galatea. You are so beautiful, so important and yet you have always had time for me.”
“And I have time for you now,” Lady Roysdon insisted. “So much time that I intend somehow, by means which I have no intention of telling you, to get back your necklace.”
Lady Dorridge looked at her friend with wide eyes.
“I cannot conceive of how you will be able to do so.”
“Don’t worry your head about it and on no account – this is vitally important, Averil – repeat the conversation we have had here to anyone else.”
“No, of course not, if you ask me not to. But I would like some of the people who say such unkind things about you to know what you are really like.”
“Most of what people say is quite justified,” Lady Roysdon said in a hard voice, “but perhaps I will change. Who knows?”
“If only your husband could die,” Averil Dorridge said. “I know that seems a dreadful thing to say, but he has been ill for so long and he does not even recognise you. What is the point of his living?”
“You are talking now like D’Arcy Sheringham. That is the sort of thing he is always saying.”
Lady Dorridge was silent.
“You don’t like him, do you, Averil?”
“I-I hardly know the Earl,” Lady Dorridge answered. “I am far too insignificant to be of any interest to him”
“That is not what I asked you.”
“Must I answer your question?”
“I want to know your opinion.”
“Then if you want the truth, Galatea, I hope that you will not marry him. There are so many horrid tales about him and the things he does – but it is not only – that.”
“Then what is it?” Lady Roysdon asked. “I really want to know.”
“I know he is very handsome, wealthy and influential,” Lady Dorridge said in a low voice. “And everybody kowtows to him, but – ”
“Finish the sentence,” Lady Roysdon prompted as there was a pause.
“He makes me feel almost as if – underneath all the elegance, the exquisite manners and the charm there is – a wild animal!”
The last words were spoken in a rush almost as if they forced themselves through Lady Dorridge’s pretty lips.
Lady Roysdon did not speak and she added quickly,
“Forgive me – please forgive me for being so rude about one of your friends. I should not have said that – but you asked me.”
“I asked you, Averil, because I value your opinion,” Lady Roysdon said. “And what you have said is not only what I have thought myself, it is true.”
“When your husband is dead, you will marry him?”
“No, I shall not marry him!” Lady Roysdon answered.
As she spoke, she glanced up at the clock on the mantelpiece and, following the direction of her eyes, Lady Dorridge jumped to her feet.
“I must go home,” she said quickly. “The children will be coming back from the beach and wanting something to eat. I dismissed my maid this morning because I can no longer afford to keep her. But old Nanny refused to go, even though I told her I cannot pay her wages.”
Lady Roysdon’s eyes hardened.
“Take no more drastic steps, Averil, until you hear from me. Just pray that I am successful in getting back your necklace.”
“I know how clever you are, Galatea, but this is a hopeless aspiration, I am well aware of that.”
“Trust me,” Lady Roysdon insisted.
Averil Dorridge
placed her bonnet on her head and tied the black ribbons under her chin.
“Thank you, dearest Galatea,” she said, “it has been wonderful to talk to you. Forgive me for being so foolish and tearful.”
“Kiss the children for me,” Lady Roysdon answered, “and tell them that I will collect them in my curricle either tomorrow or the next day and take them shopping.”
“They will adore that, but you are not to spoil them.”
“I like spoiling them.”
“You ought to have children of your own to spoil. And if only your husband – ”
Lady Dorridge’s voice died away incoherently as if she felt that she was being unnecessarily indiscreet.
Then she was hurrying across the hall and down the steps into the sunshine.
Lady Roysdon watched her go.
Then, as the butler closed the front door, she said to him,
“I want to speak to Jake. Where is he?”
“He should be helping with the luncheon, my Lady, but I’ve a suspicion he’s more likely to be out in the stables. He may be a good groom, but he’s a very indifferent footman.”
“Perhaps it would be better to leave him with the horses and engage another man in the house,” Lady Roysdon replied. “There is no need for you to be put out in any way.”
“That’s very generous of your Ladyship and, as it happens, I know a young man with good references who’s looking for employment.”
“Then engage him!” Lady Roysdon said. “And in the meantime send Jake to me. I have some orders for him.”
“Very good, my Lady.”
The old butler shuffled away and Lady Roysdon went back into the morning room.
Once again she stood looking out of the window. She was, however, not watching the promenade of fashionable people, but remembering last night when the highwayman had walked back to the carriage to open the door for her.
The other highwayman, who was holding up Hancocks and Jake, had not been holding them, as might be expected, at pistol point.
Instead he had been leaning against the wheel of the carriage in an easy, relaxed attitude with his head upturned as he talked to Jake.
It had been only a fleeting impression and the significance of it hardly percolated her mind until now.
Yet, almost as if she saw a picture of what had happened, she could see Jake bending forward, the highwayman looking up at him and old Hancocks sitting a little aloof, his hands still holding the reins.
Hancocks was almost deaf and if they talked quietly he would be unlikely to hear what they were saying.
‘What were they saying?’ Lady Roysdon asked herself. ‘And why, as Jake had a blunderbuss, did he make no attempt to use it?’
He said he knew the road. If so, he was well aware that there might be highwaymen or footpads lurking in the woods and he should have been carrying his loaded blunderbuss on his knees.
There was something strange about his behaviour and she was determined to find out if what she suspected was true.
The door behind her opened.
“Jake, my Lady!” the butler announced.
The groom came into the room and Lady Roysdon turned to look at him.
She thought when she engaged him that he had an open honest face. Now she was not so sure.
He was certainly a nice-looking lad, well-built, quick and the Roysdon livery became him.
He stood waiting for her to speak and, although he seemed at his ease, she had the inescapable feeling that he was tense.
She sat down in an armchair.
“I want to speak to you, Jake,” she said slowly, choosing her words carefully.
“Yes, my Lady?”
He had, she noticed, a country accent that she could not place.
“First I want you to tell me why you did not shoot at the highwaymen last night before they could stop us.”
“They took me by surprise, my Lady.”
“But you might have anticipated that there would be highwaymen on that lonely road.”
“The talk in Brighton is all of smugglers, my Lady.”
That was true enough, but she had the feeling that the groom was trying to sidetrack her.
“There are always a number of footpads, thieves and pickpockets about, especially in a race week.”
“That be true, my Lady.”
“But you were not expecting highwaymen?”
“No, my Lady.”
“But you seemed to be acquainted with the second man. You were talking to him when I left.”
Because she was watching him closely, she saw Jake swallow. There was also a flicker in his eyes although she was not certain if it was fear or something else.
“He talked to me, my Lady.”
“What did he say?”
“Just passed the time of day.”
“Is that a usual conversation to have with a man who is threatening your life?”
There was no answer and after a moment Lady Roysdon asked,
“Would it be possible for you, Jake, to continue that conversation? To find the highwaymen again?”
“No, my Lady!”
The answer was very positive, so positive that she felt that it was a prepared reaction.
“Does it surprise you, Jake,” she enquired quietly, “to know that I have not notified the Magistrates of what occurred last night? I have not called in the Bow Street Runners, in fact I have not spoken of it to anyone.”
The groom looked at her enquiringly, but he did not speak.
“I do not intend to take steps to recover my jewellery,” Lady Roysdon went on, “but I have a very important reason for wishing to contact the highwaymen – in fact I wish to ask their help.”
“Their ’elp, my Lady?”
There was no doubt now that there was a note of astonishment in Jake’s voice.
“Yes, their help,” Lady Roysdon repeated. “Not for myself, but for someone else. That is why I am asking you, Jake, if you will take me to them.”
His eyes were on her face and she had the feeling that he was not only astounded at what she asked but considering whether he could believe what she told him.
“If anyone knew of the ’ighwaymen’s whereabouts, my Lady, they could be arrested,” Jake said after a moment.
“I am well aware of that,” Lady Roysdon answered, “but I have no such intentions towards them.”
She knew that he was unconvinced and she went on,
“What I am going to suggest is that you take me this evening to any place where we are likely to find them.”
“And supposin’ you was followed, my Lady?”
She knew only too well who Jake was suggesting might follow her and after a moment she said,
“We will ride and you can take the horses to the corner of the road behind the Mews. Make some excuse that you have to pick me up from somebody else’s house. I will meet you there at say six o’clock. Most people at that time are at dinner.”
She thought as she spoke that Sir Francis Dorridge would eat at six, as did the Prince Regent at the Royal Pavilion. Dinner would take two hours or more and he would therefore not leave for Shoreham until it was dusk.
That would give plenty of time for them to find the highwaymen.
The difficulty was Jake.
She was sure now that he was afraid of betraying his friends, if that was what the highwaymen were. But if he had some connection with them, then why had he entered her service?
This question was too difficult to answer. All that concerned her at the moment was that she should find the highwaymen and ask their assistance.
“Well, Jake?” she asked aloud. “Are you going to help me? There is no risk in it as far as you are concerned and I will agree to any conditions you may suggest. I will even be blindfolded if it pleases you.”
There was silence and then at length Jake said,
“I don’t know what to say, my Lady.”
“Then do as I ask,” Lady Roysdon said. “Be waiting for me at six o’clo
ck with Ladybird and a saddle without a pommel.”
“Won’t you find that difficult to ride, my Lady?”
“Do as I tell you and bring another horse able to keep pace with her. If we slip out of the town on the road that leads towards the Downs we are not likely to encounter anybody who knows me.”
“Your Ladyship’s known to a great many more people than your Ladyship realises, if you’ll pardon me for sayin’ so.”
“Yes – that is true,” Lady Roysdon answered, “and that is why we must be extremely careful. Perhaps I should come disguised in some way.”
She thought for a moment and then realised that Jake was watching her curiously.
She recalled that many of the escapades in which she had taken part in London had involved wearing fancy dress.
The stories of what had happened would, she knew, have lost nothing in the telling. She realised the groom was more than a little intrigued by what she had suggested, but at the same time apprehensive.
“Leave everything to me, Jake,” she said. “I promise you that I will not be followed and no one will know that I have left the town. Your friends will not be endangered in any way by my wishing to see them.”
She spoke so decisively that she knew she had made up Jake’s mind for him.
“Very good, my Lady. I’ll ’ave the ’orses waitin’ as your Ladyship suggests.”
“I will send a message to Hancocks that I will not require him this evening.”
“That’d be wise, my Lady.”
“I think in that case he will probably go off early to a tavern where he drinks with a number of other coachmen including those who serve His Royal Highness.”
“That’s right, my Lady.”
“And, if you send the stable boys on an errand, you will have the stables to yourself.”
“Yes, my Lady.”
“That is all, Jake.”
“Thank you, my Lady.”
He went from the room. As he closed the door quietly behind him, she felt sure that she could trust him.
Then she told herself that even if he betrayed her trust and talked, what in fact would he say?
If she wished to go riding late in the evening and chose to visit the place where she had been robbed the night before, it was not particularly extraordinary.
Apart, of course, from the fact that she had not reported being held up by highwaymen and being robbed of some very valuable pieces of jewellery.
The Outrageous Lady Page 4
