A Conformable Wife: A Regency Romance with a spirited heroine

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A Conformable Wife: A Regency Romance with a spirited heroine Page 12

by Alice Chetwynd Ley


  “Of course, it is not very likely that Roger will ever succeed to the title,” she pointed out fairmindedly.

  “Not unless I poison off m’father, three brothers, and my uncle,” remarked Roger Fortescue with heavy sarcasm. “For God’s sake, have done, Aunt, will you?”

  “Miss Melville will naturally desire to know these things,” said Lady Bellairs calmly.

  “Indeed, ma’am, I cannot imagine why you should suppose so!” retorted Henrietta. “It is none of my business.”

  Lady Bellairs surveyed her for a moment in patent disbelief. “Personally, I always believe in plain speaking. And now that you are informed from a credible source of my nephew’s social standing, I trust you will feel secure in allowing him to escort you about the town a little. One must beware of upstarts, Miss Melville, especially when a young woman is, like yourself, possessed of a tempting fortune.”

  “Your ladyship is very good to take such an interest in my concerns,” said Henrietta with a trembling lip. Before she had been divided between amusement and indignation, but now amusement definitely had the upper hand. “I must tell you, however, that for some years I have been used to look after myself, and am not such a green girl as you evidently think me.”

  Lady Bellairs then rose to take her leave. While she was bidding goodbye to Louisa, with whom she had scarcely exchanged a word during the short visit, Fortescue seized the chance to make a quiet, anguished aside to Henrietta.

  “For God’s sake don’t take a miff, ma’am. I know she’s positively Gothic, but don’t let her set you against our little arrangement! You’ve no notion what my life will be like if you fight shy!”

  Henrietta nodded. Then, making a graceful bow to both ladies, the young man ushered his daunting relative quickly out of the house.

  They had barely left when Almeria arrived, to be regaled with a lively account of the foregoing visit.

  “Why, it’s incredible!” she exclaimed, when they had all laughed until their sides ached. “I know she’s an eccentric, of course, but to act in such a fashion! I trust she did not demand six cows or horses as a dowry.”

  “Poor young man, he will have thoroughly earned whatever she intends to bequeath to him,” said Louisa.

  “He may decide to play the man and make a bid for independence before then,” remarked Henrietta. “I trust he will. But in the meantime I’ve no positive objection to playing a part in his little scheme.”

  “What little scheme?” asked Almeria, opening her green eyes wide.

  Henrietta explained, producing more laughter.

  “Upon my word, one’s neighbours provide endless amusement! I wonder, do they laugh over our antics?”

  “You may be certain of it,” said Louisa. “Speaking of neighbours, we require your help with one, my dear Almeria. Mr. Burke, it seems, intends to make up a party, which will include the two of us, for the next Gala night at the Sydney Gardens. And we greatly fear that it may turn out an odiously dull affair unless you use your influence with him in the choice of those to be invited. He’s almost sure to ask you and Sir Giles, so pray do your best for us.”

  Almeria readily promised.

  Chapter XII

  Louisa was mildly surprised to receive a morning call a few days later from Lady Laverton and her daughter, Isabella.

  “I scarcely knew the family when I was living at our old home in Somerset,” Louisa said to Henrietta when the butler delivered the visiting card. “However, I dare say they are calling on your account. Isabella Laverton was a particular friend of your younger sister, Pamela, was she not?”

  “Yes, indeed. Your friend Mrs. Hinton-Wellow told me that the Lavertons had recently arrived in Bath. It’s rather surprising that we haven’t encountered them before.”

  “The town is so crowded during the social season that it’s easy to miss people,” replied Louisa. “You may show the ladies in, William.”

  It could never have been said of Lady Laverton that she would so far forget herself as to stare, but her hand travelled momentarily to her lorgnette as she first set eyes on Miss Melville. Henrietta wore a gown of blue percale and had dressed her hair becomingly so that small ringlets framed her face. As for Isabella, being less experienced in the social niceties than her mother, she did stare quite frankly before recollecting herself.

  “It was quite a surprise to learn that you had come on a visit to Bath,” remarked Isabella to Henrietta. “You said nothing of it when we met at the Floreys’ evening party.”

  “I hadn’t made up my mind to it, then. Did my sister-in-law inform you?”

  “No, it was Mr. Aldwyn. He dined with us a day or two after you left.”

  At the name, Henrietta’s pulse seemed to miss a beat, and she sternly reprimanded herself not to be foolish. If she had only to hear his name to go into a flutter, what likelihood would there be of her carrying off the situation with credit should they chance to come face to face? Not that a meeting between them was at all probable for some time, she consoled herself.

  Even while these thoughts were chasing through her mind, she schooled herself to ask after Lord Aldwyn’s health with a proper degree of neighbourly interest.

  “Oh, Mr. Aldwyn said that his father continues to make good progress and that Lady Aldwyn is beginning to go out a little once more. Mama tells me Lady Aldwyn has never left his side in all these months. She is a most devoted wife and mother. Have you seen much of Lady Barrington? We called there yesterday, and she gave us your direction.”

  “We’ve met almost daily,” replied Henrietta. “Mrs. Fordyce takes me around to all the meeting places of Bath: the Pump Room, the Assemblies, the theatre, shopping in Milsom Street.”

  “Yes,” said Isabella, “I can see you have been shopping. You won’t think it impertinent in me, I trust, Miss Melville, but I do think you look beyond anything in that gown. Why, it’s in the first stare of fashion!”

  “I’m so glad you like it,” she said casually.

  For the next half hour, they talked about fashions and style, until finally Lady Laverton and Isabella made their farewells and rose to leave.

  “Mama, did ever you see anything like it?” demanded Isabella, as the front door closed behind them. “Miss Melville, I mean! I could almost bring myself to call her by her first name. She used to look so frumpy and old-maidish; I can’t believe it’s the same person!”

  Her mother frowned thoughtfully. “Yes, it is rather a drastic change, isn’t it?”

  In the days that followed, Henrietta thought with amazement how changed her life had become. She had never lacked occupation at Westhyde Manor, but her activities there had been vastly different from those that now engaged her. The quiet country pursuits that she had always so much enjoyed had now given place to the activities of a fashionable town. Shopping in the elegant thoroughfares, attending lively social gatherings in the various public rooms, going to private dinner parties, and making morning calls occupied most of her time. Sometimes she missed her solitary walks or rides among the familiar hills of her own countryside, and she told herself that a town life was not really for her an ideal existence. But it was all new and exciting, and after being so long on her own, the companionship of Louisa was especially welcome.

  Like Louisa, she was popular with the gentlemen, and at first was a little embarrassed by the fulsome compliments of flirts such as Hinton-Wellow. On one occasion, when she had delivered a blighting snub to that gentleman, Louisa took her to task.

  “Don’t be so heavy-handed with him, my love,” she advised. “You made everyone stare.”

  “Much I care!” said Henrietta hotly. “He is an odious wretch to behave in such a way with his wife standing by, doing her best to look unconcerned, and, if I know anything, almost dying of shame!”

  “But if you show that you take him seriously, surely it must make it worse for Olivia Hinton-Wellow? Turn his gallantries off with a laugh, and she can at least keep up the pretence to others that it is simply his joking way.”
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  “I dare say you are right. The trouble is, I have no experience of flirting.”

  “Then it’s high time you acquired some. Only study me!” replied Louisa shamelessly.

  Although Henrietta laughed, she had already noticed Louisa’s skilful handling of admirers. She knew it for a useful talent, so she set herself to learn the trick of it.

  They were shopping one morning in Milsom Street, where Louisa purchased a new bonnet.

  “What a pity that I shan’t have an opportunity of wearing it until tomorrow. I never can bear to wait before trying out something new, can you? But nowadays you are forever wearing something new, you lucky creature. I declare you’re quite giving me a disgust of my own wardrobe, and I shall be obliged to discard most of it and start again!”

  “Oh, dear, I should be sorry to think that I have been the cause of leading you into extravagance,” replied Henrietta primly. “Do you think I should perhaps wear one of my old gowns to the concert this evening?”

  “That you can’t do, for I told my maid to bundle them up and give them to charity,” said Louisa with a chuckle.

  At that moment a passing curricle drew into the sidewalk alongside them, and they saw that the driver was Captain Barclay.

  “I trust you have your carriage close by,” he said, after greeting them cordially, “for I see you’ve some cargo there.”

  “No, we walked into Milsom Street,” answered Louisa. “We had no intention of doing any shopping when we left home, but I saw the most delightful bonnet, and so —”

  “And so you had to purchase it,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “But could the shop not deliver it for you?”

  “Well, you see, I had just carried it off from under the nose of another customer, and I couldn’t bear to entrust it to the milliner. Mistakes can happen so easily, you know.”

  The twinkle became a broad grin. “Wanted to make sure of your prize? Don’t blame you, ma’am. Well now, I’d be happy to take you home, but this vehicle’s no good for more than one passenger, so what do you say if I relieve you of that bandbox?”

  Louisa looked doubtful. “Oh, but it will roll about and mayhap become damaged. I think I had best carry it myself, but thank you all the same, Captain.”

  “Not a whit. I promise to hold onto it all the way,” he insisted.

  “Then you’ll be obliged to drive with one hand,” she pointed out.

  “Nothing easier, assure you. Will you hand it up to me, ma’am?”

  Louisa was about to comply when Henrietta noticed Lady Laverton and Isabella approaching along the sidewalk. It seemed a pity to deprive the captain of the chance of a few moments alone with his lady love.

  “See, here are the Lavertons,” she said quickly. “Why do not you go home with Captain Barclay, Louisa, and then you can take care of your precious headgear yourself? I will return with Lady Laverton and Isabella, and if they haven’t quite finished shopping, I shall be quite content to go round with them.”

  Louisa protested that she could not abandon her friend in that way, but Henrietta clinched the matter by at once going over to the Lavertons. After a moment, she turned to nod reassurance, and Louisa, realising that the captain could not keep his horses standing any longer, allowed him to assist her into the curricle. She settled herself beside him, the bandbox held securely on her knee, and the curricle moved off smoothly.

  “And what have you been doing with yourself all day?” she asked, smiling up at him. “I often wonder how gentlemen do contrive to pass the time that we females fill with shopping and such like.”

  “I’ve been over to Bristol, ma’am,” he said, checking his horses as they came to a temporary traffic jam. “Deuce take it,” he exclaimed involuntarily, “what does that fellow in the whiskey think he’s about? The merest whipster could have done better.”

  “He certainly doesn’t seem very expert,” allowed Louisa.

  “Expert!” The captain snorted contemptuously. “Fellow ought to be driving a dogcart.”

  “Well, we are in no particular hurry,” said Louisa soothingly.

  “Ah, we’re getting through at last,” said the captain with satisfaction, as the road ahead cleared and they were able to proceed. “I beg your pardon, Mrs. Fordyce. You’ll be thinking you’d have done better on foot, after all.”

  “Not at all,” replied she politely, then added, with irresistible mischief, “This is infinitely more diverting! Tell me, Captain, are Clifton Downs as pleasant as ever? They are the only diversion in Bristol I can remember.”

  He was now able to give his attention to her, and once more experienced the heady sensation produced by meeting her dancing hazel eyes.

  He cleared his throat uneasily. “The Downs are certainly pleasant, but I go to Bristol to walk around the docks and look over the vessels lying at anchor. West Indiamen, mostly, unloading their cargo or refitting for the next voyage; tidy craft, by and large, though not to be compared with a naval ship, of course.”

  “You’re not really happy ashore, are you, sir? You would prefer to have a command again, I believe.”

  “That’s not likely in these times, now the wars are over. There’s many a sailor — ay, and a soldier, too — who must content himself with a less adventurous life. And I dare say, provided a man has a home and family, there are compensations. It’s lonely at sea, ma’am. Voyages sometimes last for years. It’s a capital life for a young, unattached man, but I’ve known married officers who found the separation from their families a tremendous strain. And the time comes to most men when they want to settle down and raise a family.”

  Louisa stirred uneasily in her seat. She had never before heard Captain Barclay talk in quite this vein, and moreover, she felt a little nervous of where the conversation might be leading. She did not answer him for several minutes, pretending to be engrossed in watching the pedestrians in the street, and he, taking one look at her averted face, sighed and gave exaggerated attention to his driving.

  “I dare say you will not attend the concert in the Rooms this evening,” she said at last, when she felt the silence had lasted too long.

  “A concert, is there?” He came back from what appeared to be some distance. “I didn’t know of it.”

  “No, but then you don’t like music,” she said accusingly.

  “I don’t? What makes you think so, ma’am?”

  “Why, I heard you tell Miss Dyrham so on one occasion, when she was teasing you to attend a concert,” she reminded him, her eyes dancing with mischief.

  “That —!” He checked himself, quickly substituting a more suitable phrase for the one he had intended to use. “That lady spurs too hard for a body to bear and no man likes to be ridden! I’ll admit, Mrs. Fordyce, that one or two ladies singing round the pianoforte after dinner is more to my taste than a full-scale concert lasting for several hours, but I am not averse to music altogether. No such thing, I assure you. I suppose you and Miss Melville are to go?” he added.

  She assented, and he looked thoughtful.

  “Well, I may look in,” he said presently.

  “You may find it difficult to secure a ticket, sir, for I suppose you are not a subscriber?”

  “To the balls, yes, also to the Card and Reading rooms, but not to the concerts. But never fear, I shall find a way of procuring a ticket, all right and tight.”

  Glancing at his confident expression, she did not doubt that he would find a way to achieve his objective. He was a gentleman who inspired one with a comfortable feeling of security. She sighed; security was something that she had good reason to value highly.

  He set her down at her door. Then, deep in thought, he drove the curricle round to the mews. Why, he asked himself bitterly, could he never bring matters to a head with this enchanting lady, the only female he had ever met whom he would wish to make his wife? Had he not always been a man to go straight for his objectives, determinedly surmounting any obstacles in his path? Why then, in this instance, was he behaving like any young middy under fir
e for the first time? Love was a devilish business, quite different from any other. If only this lady would give him some sign, some small encouragement, he might be emboldened to put the question. But her manner towards him, though lively and natural, was no different from that she showed to many other men in Bath. And surely it was not fancy on his part that, whenever he seemed to be approaching closer to her in spirit, she drew off, holding herself aloof? He dared not offer her his hand, he concluded disgustedly, because he was afraid of rejection, of losing the little that he had and might still keep, as long as he remained silent.

  By the time he entered his own house, he was decidedly out of charity with himself.

  Chapter XIII

  The assembly card rooms, though well patronised, were decidedly too tame for such a determined gambler as young Roger Fortescue. He had not long been lodged in the town when he chanced to learn of a discreet gaming establishment called Lorimer’s, where a taste for higher play might be indulged. He made up his mind to pay the place a visit as soon as he could evade the watchful eye of his aunt.

  His first time at Lorimer’s, he came away several hundred pounds lighter in pocket, but he had at least made some fortunate acquaintances. Many gentlemen of ton patronised Lorimer’s, for only the affluent could afford to game there, and it was the one place in the town where a newcomer might find a quick introduction into Bath society with nothing more to recommend him than the ability to play and pay.

  Fortescue’s ability to pay being unfortunately restricted, his visits were not as frequent as he would have wished. Then, too, there were always his aunt’s demands upon his time.

  These same irritating demands caused him some disappointment and embarrassment on the evening of the musical concert at the Assembly Rooms. He had managed to slip away to Lorimer’s on some pretext earlier in the afternoon, but as nothing would do for Aunt Euphemia but that he should escort her to the concert, at six o’clock he was obliged to make his excuses to the three gentlemen with whom he had been playing.

 

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