Beth and the Mistaken Identity

by Alicia Cameron

  ‘Fault? You cannot believe that I can have such a man in my house?’

  ‘Oh, no, no! He cannot continue to run the place in the way he has. Eventually the Family — your family, I mean — would be made very uncomfortable. And the servants are all at sea. No, I can see that he should leave.’ She looked at him pleadingly, ‘But can you not write him a character? Can you not at least leave him the means to get another position?’

  ‘And sign my name to a falsehood, making another house the recipient of his dubious services? You must know that I have interviewed the entire staff, and know of all his proclivities. His temper, his theft of spirits and of other things, the fear he strikes into his whole household, such that three maids burst into tears at his very name.’

  ‘Oh, he must know then? If you interviewed the staff?’

  ‘I sent him on an unusual errand: he will return before dinner.’ He looked at her. ‘What I wish to know is, how did you see what I could not?’

  Beth coloured. ‘I do not know. I think that quiet people often notice what others do not.’

  ‘Yet you have not the reputation of being quiet.’

  She looked pleadingly into his sapphire eyes. Why would no one listen? In another situation, Beth’s ready humour would have taken over, but not now. ‘Please sir, I am not who you think me—’ He reached over and patted her hand and in this proximity, Beth knew the impulse once more to throw herself into those arms and unburden herself. Fatal.

  ‘I know. You are not Miss Ludgate and will not tell me who you are. But since the only person you do admit to knowing is General Lord Horescombe, and he returns at the end of the week, then he is the person with whom I feel safe to deposit you. He will know how to return you home.’

  Beth’s heart was racing. Perhaps, if she could manage to meet with Lady Ernestine when the family came back to town and have words with her, her ladyship might help. Miss Sophy was safe at Foster Hall, and perhaps Beth might be able to explain this ruse … she had some days respite, at least. They would worry for her if she ran away now, this goodhearted, aristocratic brother and sister. No, she would wait until she could see Lady Ernestine, and maybe she could explain what a tangle Miss Sophy could make of lives, and they would not feel so betrayed at her deception. She could not hope Lady Ernestine could help her find a situation, but explaining her behaviour would salve her guilt. But something still bothered her. ‘And Dow?’

  ‘You have such a soft heart, little wren,’ the marquis said and pinched her chin. She blushed, and she felt him breathe a little deeper, seeing him sit back with a surprised look on his face. He recovered however and said neutrally. ‘I cannot give Dow a character. But I shall give him enough in coin to keep him for some months.’

  ‘Perhaps enough for passage to the Americas or to India? I hear it is better there.’

  The marquis looked at her strangely. ‘Better?’

  ‘More opportunity for people of — of Dow’s class.’

  ‘And now, I suppose, I must find myself a new butler. It is a trial.’

  Despite herself, Beth laughed shortly. He had no idea what a real trial was. But she gave her thought to the problem. ‘Frost is the under-butler, of course,’ said Beth with a slight frown, having regarded this individual with narrowed eyes at the two mealtimes, ‘but I feel he may be tainted with Dow’s method.’

  ‘Oh yes?’ the marquis enquired, smiling.

  ‘I fear so. He seemed to make Aggie as afraid as Dow.’

  ‘And who is Aggie?’

  ‘Why one of your chambermaids, your lordship,’ said Beth, annoyed once more.

  ‘Please call me Wrexham. And I beg your pardon, my dear,’ he was mocking her a little, but she didn’t quite perceive it.

  ‘Well, Wrexham, I think that George might be a better fit.’

  ‘The footman who stole my brandy?’

  ‘Yes.’ Beth said it seriously. ‘He was trained under your former excellent butler. And he was sorry to see the household so upset. I believe he wishes to establish the order that once existed, the harmony among the staff.’

  ‘I cannot for the life of me understand why, if things were so bad, that my valet or housekeeper (who have served my family for ever) could not have mentioned it.’

  ‘Well, of course, the running of the house is beneath your valet’s notice.’ Beth informed him.

  ‘It is?’

  ‘Oh yes! That is how he keeps his superiority below stairs. He may not run the house, but he is your right hand man, and as such is above the regulation of any other servant. Therefore he refuses to acknowledge the running of the house, except in regard to carrying out his own duties. I am sure he would see that nothing impeded that, and Dow would understand this, of course.’

  ‘I had not quite thought of that,’ said the marquis, now thoroughly amused. ‘And my housekeeper, Mrs Fitch, why has she not brought it up to me?’

  ‘Well,’ considered Beth, tilting her head to one side in thought, ‘I have not spoken to her, but I expect that is because Dow set her against Cook, and she feared that to open the door to complaints to you was to risk a lot of dirty linen being washed in front of you.’

  ‘I believe it is so. My interviews today were not happy ones. Indeed,’ he remembered with distaste, ‘Mrs Bates, the cook, burst into tears.’

  ‘I expect she’s at fault then. It is my experience that the guilty party always takes recourse in tears.’

  He raised his brows, still smiling. ‘You are very young to have made a study of it.’

  ‘I am nineteen years.’

  At this, some frisson seemed to overtake the marquis, some small, formally banked down fire seemed to leap to his eyes. Beth felt scalded. ‘I thought you younger.’

  His voice was intimate and low, and Beth, affected in some way she did not understand, returned, ‘No, nineteen, past.’ It was not an elegant way to phrase it, and Beth wondered if she had given herself away at last, but he did not notice.

  Something hung between them, her eyes searched his for an answer, and then he pulled away, standing up as though needing the distance. ‘I am so happy to have you remain with us some days, Miss Fox. Please promise me that you will not seek to leave us until the Horescombes return to town.’

  Beth, unable to take her eyes from his, breathed back, ‘I promise.’

  He took her hand then and bowed over it formally, she stood, curtsied, and ran upstairs.

  She was shaken, the touch of his hand left her shaken, as had that unexplainable look in his eye. It did not seem, in Beth’s experience watching Miss Sophy and her attendant gentlemen, that he had been flirting. It was rather that she had some power over him that he did not wish. His pulling away showed this. That seemed unlikely, and maybe she was merely endowing him with her own feelings. But he had laughed at her, been thoroughly relaxed, and then the change. Fire in those eyes, and almost the same wonder that she herself felt. He was a gentleman, pulling away from a lady, and she blushed to wonder what he might have done if she had been merely a maid. That was a treacherous thought, and she must not indulge it. She could not help being glad that she moved him, and afraid, too. But men were like this, said Mrs Badger, and it was nothing to them, but much to the girls they played with. Only, he had not looked as though he were playing.

  Amid these jumping thoughts, some peace overtook her too. As she sat in her room, she had at least a plan. Tell the truth in the presence of Lady Ernestine, who would be shocked, but might also understand that obeying Miss Sophy was something to do with it. At least then they might understand, these people who had shown such friendship to her. She would relax at last until the Horescombes came home. She would accept food and shelter and no more from them, despite what the princess may wish to give her. At least they would not believe her a thief at the last.

  The princess was at Madame Godot’s when she met Lady Staines, who could be spotted at any rate at a mile’s distance, so strange was her sense of colour. Today she sported a shocking pink muslin, with orange
ribbons, and a turquoise pelisse. Her ladyship had been one of the sources of on dits about Sophy Ludgate, and Emmeline desired to expand her knowledge a little, in view of their predicament.

  ‘Your ladyship,’ the princess said, ‘what an arresting bonnet.’ It was orange, like the ribbons, and was embellished by folds of purple grosgrain ribbon. She saw the small figure of Madame Godot cast her eyes in the air and tried not to laugh.

  ‘From someone of your taste, Your Highness,’ said her ladyship smugly, ‘I am complimented highly.’

  Emmeline thought that “arresting” was not quite an admission of admiration, but smiled brightly.

  ‘Is Staines in town?’

  Her ladyship’s face expressed a little distaste. ‘Thankfully, my son does not accompany me.’ She laughed, and the princess joined her. ‘I love my son dearly, but it is no use denying he is a prig, set to spoil my amusements.’

  ‘He is not yet married?’

  ‘No, though I hope he may do soon. And whoever she is, I hope she leads him a merry dance. Really, I am a most unnatural mother.’

  Emmeline liked Lady Staines, and agreed that her son, whom she had not seen in three years, was the biggest prig imaginable. ‘Perhaps, with that young girl whom you told me of, Miss Sophy Ludgate wasn’t it, due to be presented, you might have your wish.’

  ‘Oh, what a treat that would be to watch, from the distance of the Dower House at least. She might drive him distracted in a very short time. And he might just offer for her as she’s an heiress, and the ward of an earl. He is tremendously focussed on improving his estates and standing in the world. Whatever her reputation, he is just self-satisfied enough to believe he could tame her.’

  ‘I admit that I have long wanted to know her full story, for I am, you know, tiresomely inquisitive.’

  ‘But not a gossip, I know,’ said Lady Staines. ‘Of course I would not wish to bandy tales with a young girl’s reputation at stake, like the foul Viscountess Swanson.’

  ‘I shall never divulge a word!’ said Emmeline seriously.

  ‘Well,’ said her ladyship, dropping her voice and leaning in confidentially, ‘perhaps we may adjourn to a coffee house nearby so as to discuss it?’

  The ladies did so.

  ‘Well, there is no doubting that the young lady sails close to the wind. Lady Ernestine was rather too lenient, I think, and allowed her to go out with her maid shopping or walking in the park. And of course, that allowed her to have encounters with who knows who. And then, you know, since she was not out, she was allowed no balls — but she was permitted to go with her particular friends to musical evenings, and small parties where there was dancing. That was quite enough to get a young girl as fascinating as she into trouble.’

  The princess frowned. This seemed serious.

  ‘Oh, nothing risqué, as old Viscountess Swanson has set about, saying she should be denied vouchers to Almacks.’

  ‘Oh, dear!’

  ‘Oh with the earl and Lady Ernestine as her sponsors, there is little fear of that. Maria Sefton is one of Ernestine’s best friends.’

  Lady Sefton was a patroness of Almacks, that elite ballroom, which every young lady desired to go to and where many had met their match.

  ‘Then what does her reputation suggest?’

  ‘Oh, that she is headstrong. A visit to the opera when she had been forbidden. The enticing of the recluse Mr Forster out of seclusion. Apparently she persuaded him she had talent on the pianoforte, which she does not.’ Emmeline laughed, think that she might have done such things herself only a few years ago. ‘Persuading young Lamb to supply the carriage for the opera evening, which his mama was highly displeased about. And then there was a visit to Astley’s Amphitheatre, which is not certain, but Viscountess Swanson has set it about that she saw her there, accompanied by Miss Oakshott. It is rumoured that Sir Hugh Symington had arranged the visit, for it was his carriage the girls entered.’

  ‘I expect she wished to see the equestriennes.’

  ‘Indeed. But Lady Ernestine patently did not want her to do so yet. And she went anyway. She has never, you know, been seen in a gentleman’s company alone. Which just about preserves her reputation. But it is quite clear that she does as she pleases.’ Her ladyship paused, with her cup half raised to her mouth. ‘Oh, you have inspired me Your Highness! I must introduce the new heiress to my son at the first opportunity…’

  Emmeline laughed and soon took her leave.

  As she rode back to Grosvenor Square she thought of Beth. Nothing about the Sophy she knew seemed like the description. Perhaps she was led astray by some other young lady, and then, of course, her sweetness guaranteed that any young cub she met must be willing to do anything for her. It all seemed to Emmeline like childhood desires, to see the play or the famous horsewomen, or to play a trick on some reserved gentleman for amusement.

  Beth was showing more vivacity the more she relaxed, but somehow this wilfulness described did not mesh with her personality. But the princess knew that many a story got embellished in the retelling, and Beth could be the victim of some silly mistakes and some bad luck. The Vauxhall incident seemed the worst of all, as the most dangerous. But it appeared that it was not well-known, for Lady Staines did not mention it. That was good. Emmeline found herself solicitous for Beth’s — or Sophy’s reputation.

  Chapter 9

  Life at the marquis’s house took on a rather different aspect the next morning. Dow was gone, and George was acting butler. Again, he looked his gratitude at Beth, but they did not talk of it. In his dark, unadorned livery, he looked very handsome and Beth smiled at him shyly, which butler-like, he did not see. Frost, the under-butler, did not evince any jealousy that Beth could see, and the marquis told her that he had agreed to continue working under George for the trial period, with an option to seek preferment at another house, with a good character provided.

  Beth relaxed a great deal. It seemed her accent, so honed by Miss Sophy for her own devices, did not let her down. Indeed, it seemed more natural to her now than her own. She had already softened her country burr since she’d been at Lady Foster’s, after all. She was, she thought, a natural mimic.

  She displayed this as she was called to the princess’s room the next morning, wearing her pelisse ready for the ride they had decided on at dinner the previous evening. The French maid was putting the princess’s hair back and fussing around as she dressed her mistress in a handsomely frogged riding dress and set a pretty tricorne hat atop, an ironic reference to another time. The maid pulled the net over the princess’s face, and her mistress said, ‘The puce muslin today, Cécile,’ which caused the maid to explode into a volley of words.

  When Cécile left in another minute or two, Beth could not help ape her response, flinging her hands in the air in Gallic excitement, ‘But no, Yourrr ‘ighneess, you must nev-err wear puce, it drains the skin entirelee!’ She ended with the maid’s gesture in the air.

  The princess laughed, saying, ‘You might be in the theatre, my dear Beth!’ and Beth, glad to be called by her name again, had to admit it was still a possibility. Though for the sake of her honour, she hoped not.

  They rode together in the early morning, and by arrangement did not stop to greet friends, the marquis quite seeing the problem, as Emmi phrased it, of the introduction. Once on the ride, Beth was startled to see Miss Oakshott, friend of Miss Sophy, but that young lady was too busy regarding Her Highness’s pelisse, so obviously a Paris creation. Beth grew to relax on the ride, glad to have a horse beneath her again as she had had on the farm, but not since. Certainly, it had never been such a fine beast, but she had learnt to ride early and was a natural, though the side-saddle was an adjustment.

  ‘Does not Miss Fox have a fine seat, Wrexham?’ the princess asked with mischief.

  He looked over at Beth and smiled. ‘Very admirable. Though I thought to begin with that it was some time since you’ve ridden, Miss Fox.’

  ‘It is, rather, my lord.’

  ‘
Wrexham.’ He replied. ‘We discussed this.’

  The princess’s eyebrows flew up. This was not an honour bestowed on every young lady of their acquaintance.

  ‘Very well, my lord — I mean Wrexham.’ Beth smiled a little. ‘But you promised not to bully me if I did call you so.’ She was surprised to hear herself tease him, rather as though he were a footman at the Hall.

  ‘And I shall be Emmeline,’ said the princess, taking in their smiles. ‘You have no idea how my title chafes at me. I am determined to marry soon, if only so I might drop it entirely.’

  ‘That seems a little extreme,’ said Beth, seriously. There was a beat, then, caught by the ridiculousness of this, they all laughed.

  When they returned to the house, they breakfasted together and the chatter followed smoothly, Emmeline bearing more than her equal share in the nonsense. ‘I see that you do not wish to gad about with me, my dear Beth, but what on earth are you to do with yourself all day?’

  ‘I believe Miss Fox is a great reader, Emmi.’

  The princess looked at Beth, clearly disappointed. ‘Really? I admit I read none but the most fashionable books, and even then only the pages my friends mark for me. I must be alone in finding Glenarvon quite tedious.’

  ‘I have not read it, ‘said Beth.

  ‘I’m afraid it would mean nothing to you if you have not been much in the ton. The writer gives new names to some notables and makes them either ridiculous or villains in her plot,’ said the marquis, disapprovingly.

  ‘You’ve read it then?’ said Beth rather cheekily and he laughed again. ‘Should I like it as a tale alone?’ she asked, sipping her chocolate.

  ‘I believe it has little merit if one is not scandalised by the gossip,’ he replied.

  ‘But you cannot stay and read all day, you will be most thoroughly bored,’ said Emmeline, bringing the point around.

  ‘Well, I might walk with Aggie in the square.’