A Conformable Wife: A Regency Romance with a spirited heroine

by Alice Chetwynd Ley

  “Beg you’ll forgive me,” he said, consulting his watch and pushing back his chair from the table. “Got to escort my aunt somewhere this evening; the most devilish thing, but can’t be avoided!”

  George Hinton-Wellow, one of the four at the table, looked at Mark Kennett, a crony of his, and winked. The fourth man in the game, a newcomer to Bath called Paul Colby, saw the gesture and misinterpreted it. He laughed.

  “Sure and I trust your aunt will be looking as pretty as a picture and will reward you suitably, Fortescue,” he said in a voice that held just a hint of an Irish brogue.

  “You’re faint and far off, m’dear fellow,” retorted Fortescue, with an embarrassed smile. “This really is my aunt, worse luck! Can’t afford to upset the lady, so must make my apologies, gentlemen. Shall we settle?”

  They did so, Fortescue leaving the gaming house with only a few coins to jingle together in his pockets.

  “A lively youth,” remarked Colby after Fortescue had departed. “Dependent on his relative for funds, I collect?”

  Hinton-Wellow nodded. “Just so, and the old dragon has him dancing attendance on her for most of his time. Still, who pays the piper calls the tune, what?”

  “He should look out for an heiress instead,” suggested Colby. “I dare say there are some to be found in Bath.”

  “Indeed. We’ve some rare little charmers! Mrs. Fordyce, for instance — now there’s a bewitching female! Though I fancy young Fortescue would be a trifle brash for that lady’s taste, as she’s a widow. She needs a man of more experience.”

  “Someone more like yourself, for instance?” quizzed Mark Kennett with a ribald chuckle.

  “Precisely, my dear chap. But, alas, I’m a married man and out of the running.”

  “Not noticeably,” retorted Kennett.

  “Fordyce,” Paul Colby repeated thoughtfully. “I knew a lady of that name once.”

  Henrietta and Louisa arrived at the concert early. They selected seats with plenty of space alongside so that any of their friends who might chance to appear could sit beside them. This turned out to be not altogether an advantageous move when presently Mr. Burke entered, looked about him for a few moments, then came over to the chair beside Henrietta.

  “Are you saving this place for anyone, Miss Melville?” he asked, having greeted them both gravely.

  “Oh, no,” answered Henrietta quickly, then added, “That’s to say, not positively, though I did think perhaps if Lady Barrington should be coming —”

  “Then possibly you would prefer me to sit somewhere else,” he said, looking a little crestfallen.

  Henrietta’s kind heart could not persist in repulsing him. “Not at all; she may not come, after all. Pray sit here if you’ve a mind to do so, sir.”

  “Thank you,” he replied, seating himself with the deliberation that characterised all his actions. “Are you fond of music, Miss Melville?”

  “Yes, indeed, though I’m not very knowledgeable on the subject, I fear. I enjoy simple chamber pieces rather than the grand orchestral style. But then I have not had the advantage of attending concerts frequently.”

  “That is a pity, but I am sure your natural taste must be good. My dear mother was very fond of music, and I accompanied her to almost every concert that was held in Bath.”

  Just then Henrietta was pleased to see Almeria and Sir Giles seating themselves next to Louisa; with more mixed feelings, she noticed Fortescue about to settle Lady Bellairs in the adjacent chair to Mr. Burke. Having performed this office, Fortescue moved behind Henrietta to whisper in her ear.

  “Dished, b’God, and by a man who’ll certainly cut me out! But see if I don’t make a recover when there’s an interval!”

  She smiled up at him, then leaned forward to greet Lady Bellairs, who responded with an affable nod. Fortescue, reluctantly sitting down on the other side of his aunt, fidgeted in his chair a great deal and looked extremely bored.

  The concert began with a pianoforte concerto by Haydn, after which Mr. Burke told Henrietta about a child of only four and a half years who had played this same work at a concert held at Ranelagh some twenty years previously. He continued talking until the next item on the programme began, when Henrietta silently breathed a sigh of relief.

  During the interval that followed, Lady Bellairs, who had shown increasing signs of impatience with Mr. Burke’s chatter, finally took a hand in matters by forthrightly demanding that the gentleman should change places with her.

  “I do not see at all well in this seat. That female in front of me with the ridiculously towering headdress quite obscures my view!” she complained in a loud voice.

  The lady in question directed a hostile stare at her critic before defiantly arching her neck so that her head-gear gained several inches in height.

  “No, really, Aunt!” protested Fortescue feebly.

  Mr. Burke, however, with the impeccable manners that had never been known to desert him, at once changed places with Lady Bellairs, and since he felt that it would be uncivil to separate the lady from her nephew, he politely urged Fortescue to take the chair now vacated by his aunt.

  “That is much better,” declared Lady Bellairs as she settled herself next to Henrietta. “My dear Miss Melville, you must be quite tired of that man’s insipid conversation! In a little while I shall change places with Roger so you may enjoy a comfortable cose together. He can be a most entertaining companion, Miss Melville, if I say so myself.”

  Henrietta had the greatest difficulty in repressing a laugh.

  “But I thought, ma’am,” she said in a low voice, “that you wished to change places because you could not see over the lady in front?”

  “Oh, pooh, that was an excuse, my dear, to come next to you. Besides, if I must confess the truth, I don’t see too well in any case. I simply wanted to give you and my nephew the opportunity to become better acquainted. He really is an admirable young man, though at times I find him a trifle irritating. But what elderly female does not find a young man irritating, I’d like to know? Youth goes to youth, as the saying is.”

  Henrietta scarcely knew what to reply, but there was no need, for Lady Bellairs began again with scarcely a pause for breath, this time condescending to lower her voice.

  “I dare say you may think Burke quite a good catch, Miss Melville, and so he is, in a way. That’s to say, he has an income of twenty thousand a year and is well connected. I think he’ll prove a hard man to bring along; he’s not the marrying kind, take my word for it. He’s never had any time for females. You’ll not mind my dropping a friendly warning in your ear, I feel sure, my dear. Take it from me, you have positively no hope of Burke.”

  “Indeed, Lady Bellairs, there is no occasion for you to speak at all on this subject,” replied Henrietta stiffly. “Mr. Burke is the merest acquaintance.”

  “Ah, now you’ve taken umbrage. I only meant well, you know. No matter. Fortescue will change places with me. You’ll be more in charity with him, I’m sure.”

  The exchange of seats was made, but Henrietta, still ruffled, had turned to Louisa and the Barringtons, so for some time Roger Fortescue had only a view of her back. She did not turn until the next item began, and immediately after it was over, there was a long interval for refreshments, and she and her friends rose and left their seats.

  “Oh, that dreadful woman!” she exclaimed to Almeria and Louisa. “You’ll never credit what she said to me!”

  Sir Giles had moved away to join some of the gentlemen present, so Henrietta was able to repeat the conversation with Lady Bellairs for the edification of her friends. They were most amused, and in the end, she was forced to laugh herself.

  “I have never met anyone quite like her,” she said. “And how to answer her outrageous comments civilly has me in a puzzle!”

  “Actually, there’s a good deal of truth in what she says of Mr. Burke,” Almeria judicially remarked. “I’ve noticed he’s taken a fancy to you, Hetty, but I don’t truly believe he’ll ever marry.
He’s a born bachelor — far too long under his mother’s thumb.”

  “If only everyone was not quite so busy matchmaking on my behalf!” declared Henrietta. “Is it of the slightest use my telling you all that I have no intention whatsoever of marrying?”

  She noticed Almeria’s eyes resting thoughtfully upon her and wondered for an embarrassed moment if Mr. Aldwyn had confided in his sister about his unsuccessful declaration. If so, it seemed odd that Almeria had never mentioned it. But perhaps Almeria was tactfully waiting for her friend to broach the matter herself.

  “Oh, yes, Henrietta and I have quite decided to abjure menfolk and set up a ménage à deux!” said Louisa airily.

  “No. Truly?” Almeria seemed astounded.

  “Well, it is not quite settled yet,” amended Henrietta. “But we are certainly considering it.”

  “Considering what?” demanded Sir Giles, who joined them at that moment, accompanied by Captain Barclay.

  Almeria turned a face of mock protest toward him. “Truly, my love, you have the most odious habit of intruding into other people’s conversations.”

  “I’m much too well intentioned to be odious, my dear. See, I’ve brought Barclay to join our party. Found him skulking by himself at the back of the room, looking like a fish out of water.”

  “I may be wrong, Barrington, but I don’t think a landed fish skulks,” protested the captain. He bowed to the ladies. “I trust you’re enjoying the concert?”

  The party moved into the refreshment room, where they found themselves caught up with other acquaintances. After the interval, seats were resumed for the second half of the performance. There proved to be no difficulty in accommodating Captain Barclay, as a couple who had been previously sitting beside Sir Giles had now moved to other seats. The captain was placed between Almeria and Louisa, and seemed quite content to be there.

  No sooner had Henrietta sat down than Fortescue, who was still her neighbour, claimed her attention, his aunt being absent for the moment.

  “No need to give me the cold shoulder,” he said in a low tone. “Oh, I know she put you in your high ropes — enough to send anyone off the top, I’ll agree! But don’t forget our bargain, ma’am, or I’m in for the most devilish time of it, give you my word.”

  “It seems to me that I’m in for a devilish time, myself, Mr. Fortescue, if I stick to our bargain, as you call it.”

  He turned a comic look of dismay on her. “You’d never cry craven, would you, ma’am? Well, I ask you, what can I do with her, short of gagging her, I mean to say? I may as well admit that I feel just as devilish as you do, when she starts spouting her mouth. Makes me look such a confounded fool, dammit!”

  Henrietta could withstand him no longer. She gave a merry gurgle of laughter, and for the rest of the evening exchanged light banter with him whenever an opportunity occurred. Lady Bellairs, who resumed her seat just as the next item was about to start, looked on complacently, while Mr. Burke, on her other side, appeared sunk in gloom.

  The last item on the programme was Beethoven’s Sonata Number 14. Henrietta began to make images around the slow, languorous notes of the first part of the piece. She was beside a lake, watching the moonlight caught in its quiet ripples; but underlying the peace, she felt a poignancy that moved her almost to tears. And then the mood of the music changed; the waters of the lake became turbulent, and a deeper, stronger emotion took possession of her, leaving her shaken at the final chords.

  She glanced at Louisa, whose eyes were turned upon Captain Barclay. The expression on her friend’s face for that brief moment surprised Henrietta, as it would have done the captain, had he been fortunate enough to catch it.

  Louisa was in love with Captain Barclay; there could be no other explanation of such a look, so intense, yet so sad. But why, then, did she conceal her true feelings, when the captain was awaiting only the slightest sign of encouragement to declare himself?

  Henrietta could find no satisfactory answer.

  Chapter XIV

  A few days of cloudy skies and sudden showers set in, making the two ladies’ daily outings hazardous if ventured out on foot. They had no intention of remaining cooped up indoors on this account, however, so they made use of the carriage to visit their usual haunts.

  One morning, Louisa wished to call at her bankers in Northgate Street before going on to the Pump Room. Henrietta accompanied her in the carriage to the premises, but declined to enter, insisting that instead she would take a stroll into nearby Bond Street to look through the shops.

  “Well, don’t get caught in a shower,” Louisa warned her. “There’s no thoroughfare for carriages in Bond Street, as it’s far too narrow, so I cannot take you up there. You had much better wait here for me.”

  “Oh, it will not rain just at present,” declared Henrietta rashly, looking up at the unpromising skies, “and I have been doing too much sitting. I would dearly love a short stroll.”

  “You’ll have strolling enough in the Pump Room. But if you must go, pray take the umbrella.”

  Henrietta decided otherwise, confident that the skies would hold during the ten minutes or so she intended to be out of doors. Dismounting from the chaise, she made her way into Bond Street and was soon engrossed by the elegant window displays to be found there.

  As it happened, weather prophecy was not one of her talents. While she was gazing into a jeweller’s window, entranced by a delicately chased gold pendant necklace set with sapphires, the sky rapidly became overcast, and a torrent of rain descended.

  She drew back quickly into the shelter of the doorway, reproaching herself for leaving behind the umbrella, for, although she withdrew as far as possible, the slanting rain followed her. The situation was saved by the jeweller’s assistant at once opening the door and politely inviting her to sit inside the shop until the storm abated. She was very glad to accept his offer and to watch the shop door close upon the deluge outside.

  As she took the chair placed for her by the thoughtful assistant, she noticed two gentlemen standing before the counter examining a tray containing snuff boxes. They half turned at her entrance, and she recognised one as Fortescue.

  “Miss Melville!” he exclaimed, coming over to her. “Gad, you’ve picked a devilish morning for shopping! Are you very wet, ma’am?”

  “Oh, nothing to signify. It’s my own folly entirely, for I wouldn’t trouble to bring an umbrella. I left Mrs. Fordyce making a call at the bank in Northgate Street. The carriage is waiting there for me.”

  “Glad you’re not soaked through. Allow me to present Mr. Colby to you, ma’am. He’s not long arrived in Bath from London. Colby: Miss Melville, who’s also a recent arrival.”

  Henrietta looked up into a pair of blue eyes alive with mischief.

  “Servant, ma’am,” said Colby with a graceful bow. “It’s a soft day, as they say in Ireland, but I trust you’ll take no harm from it.”

  “A soft day?” echoed Henrietta, smiling incredulously. “And it’s raining as hard as can be. Only the Irish could be so paradoxical, I fancy!”

  His answering smile was full of charm. “Sure, an’ you’re in the right of it, ma’am. But in fairness to my fellow countrymen, I must own that the phrase is more often used to describe conditions of mist and drizzle.”

  “So you are Irish, Mr. Colby.”

  “I admit the impeachment, Miss Melville, though like many another from that fair isle, I have spent most of my time in other countries.”

  “Have you indeed? How interesting, Mr. Colby.”

  “Doesn’t seem to be easin’ off, ma’am,” said Fortescue as he cast a glance outside. “Looks as if you’ll be here for some time.”

  “I hope not. Mrs. Fordyce will be anxious about me. She will have concluded her business by now, I expect.”

  “Tell you what, I’ll dash round to Northgate Street and let her know you’re shelterin’ here,” offered Fortescue, unfurling an umbrella that he had propped up beside the counter. “Won’t take a minute.”r />
  “Oh, no. It’s very good of you to offer, but you’ll be soaked! I couldn’t put you to so much trouble,” protested Henrietta.

  “Pooh, no such thing, with this, ma’am,” brandishing the umbrella. “Besides, don’t regard a drop of rain. Happy to oblige.”

  Before she could protest any further, he had darted through the shop door and was seen hurrying past the window.

  Left alone with Mr. Colby, Henrietta began to study him covertly. He was of middle height, broad shouldered and well built, with crisply curling, light brown hair brushed onto a face that could fairly be described as handsome. His tailoring was elegant, but his air was more that of a Corinthian than a dandy, and the humorous twist to his mouth suggested a man who rarely took matters seriously. She was immediately attracted to him, and not at all loath to be left in his company.

  “I collect you’re a newcomer to Bath like myself, ma’am. Do you like the town — in its more sunny moods, that is?”

  “Oh, yes, indeed I do, and so far I’ve been more fortunate than this in the weather.”

  “It’s a pleasant enough place, though a trifle slow after London, as I’m sure you’ll allow.”

  She shook her head. “I’m very little acquainted with London, sir.”

  His eyes held a look of mocking incredulity. “What, were you never there for a season, Miss Melville? I thought all young ladies made their come-out in the metropolis.”

  She smiled. “My sisters certainly did so, but I am a country mouse, I fear.”

  “A country mouse! No, no, ma’am, I’ll not believe that! Such elegance, such town polish could not belong to a rural maiden! You are roasting me, Miss Melville.”

  At that she laughed. “You are very gallant, Mr. Colby, but nevertheless what I say is true. I have lived in a Somerset village called Westhyde for the whole of my life.”

  “And that, of course, is an unconscionable time,” he replied with a quizzical smile. “No, I am not seeking to find out, for I know well that ladies never tell their age. Besides, I already know it.”