Beth and the Mistaken Identity

by Alicia Cameron

  ‘You did not think of the consequences for your maid. Seven years in service, Sophia, and now she is cast off without a character.’

  The words were harsh, but Miss Fosdyke’s tone less so. Sophy felt a stab of real guilt. She believed that Beth, whose hands could sew and dress hair like an angel, would find another position quickly. Surely her skills counted for something? She would not be drawn into their tale of dire consequences. People had sought to do so all her life just to stop her doing what she wished. To stop her doing anything, it seemed to her. When she came into her own fortune, or when she married, she would seek Beth out and take her back. She was not so ungrateful as they all thought. Of course, that may be some years, but that was not her fault.

  They continued to walk silently, their little piece of connection lost.

  The evenings were as dull as the days. A lot of people, some very old indeed, told stories around the dinner table that did not interest her, and an old roué flirted with her, and the Misses Fosdyke played the pianoforte (rather better than she feared, but such sad tunes). She could not help it, she was planning an escape. Of course, she would go back to London, and to Horescombe House eventually, but Lady Ernestine and the general deserved to worry. She looked over at Miss Wilhelmina, very nearly pretty in Lady Ernestine’s fine but simple navy silk, which became her willowy figure. Her pale brown hair was knotted becomingly, which had made her sister sniff, and her usually anxious face was animated by a sparkle of joy resulting from the nonsense of the indiscriminate old roué. This, thought Sophy sadly, might be the apex of that lady’s social adventures. Well, she was sorry, and she might have to leave a note to assuage Miss Wilhelmina’s feelings, but she was already quite far along with her plan. That she had to enlist a maid and tell some untruths did not stop her, the Misses Fosdyke could explain that it was not the girl’s fault.

  Being caught by Lord Horescombe frightened her a little. His saddened looks had alternated with sharp ones, when she had been slow to join in the dull dinner conversation. He had caught her up in the hall after the first dinner and said in a low voice, ‘Sophy, you will be your sparkling best at breakfast tomorrow. I now remember why I refused all such invitations from Asquith for the last years, for a very tiresome set of people he knows. But as I am here solely because you cannot be trusted in town, let us hope this will mend your ways in that regard. You will be more than civil, Sophy.’ She cast down her eyes demurely, but he was not deceived, but continued threateningly. ‘I have lived a long life, and I have many such acquaintances to visit, some even duller. It makes little odds to me. As long as I have dinner, a horse to ride and a library to escape to, I shall do. But will you?’ He’d held up her chin. ‘I like you, Sophy, you have something of your mother’s spirit. But disobedience in the ranks is what I have never stood for, and never will!’

  Well, Sophy liked him too. And Lady Ernestine and her bookish ways. And even the Misses Fosdyke. Miss Wilhelmina had come into her room after dinner one night and said, ‘Oh Sophy, I do hope you are enjoying yourself as much as I am!’ Sophy merely gaped. ‘The company is most elevated and charming, and my room has a view of the sea. And only imagine, our host has caused a fire to be lit there. Such a waste, only for me, but so very welcome. And wearing Lady Ernestine’s dress, which I know I will return to her, but it is so lovely and I only had to have it pinned a trifle, with silk pins, you know, so fine that they will not mark it I’m sure. And I have another three on loan. Florencia has the same number, but finds only the grey silk plain enough for her, and chafes at the ribbons, but she looks almost a girl again. I mean to encourage her to try the wine silk too, before we leave, for I remember her in a muslin of the same colour when we were younger, and it became her so well. Oh Sophy, I know that you would rather be in London, and I did so long to see more of the city myself, but it is the happiest chance that we get to come here, too. Do you not think so, my dear girl?’ She added the last anxiously, and Sophy determined, in a heroic spirit, to delay her running-off until Miss Wilhelmina had a few more days of her visit. She patted her hand, therefore, and said, ‘I’m so glad you are enjoying it, ma’am. I believe I never saw you look prettier than tonight!’ causing her chaperone to blush. She could not put off her plan longer, or it would not teach Lady Ernestine (now visiting more amusing friends in Kent) a lesson. When they saw how determined she was, the Horescombes could not, and would not, send her to another party such as this.

  The result was that some days later than she had planned, and only two days before the party was set to break up properly, Sophy, wearing the maid Betty’s Sunday best dress, cloak and bonnet (in exchange for a heavenly pink muslin and real wool pelisse which Betty would hide for the moment), stole from the house and met Bill, a carter, and brother of Betty. ‘Quick!’ she said to this rather startled young man, ‘We shall be seen!’

  Automatically, Bill held out his hand, and pulled her up, while his sister whispered instructions to him. With her small carpet bag (also belonging to Betty), and her legs swinging on the back of the cart, Sophy felt herself to be in heaven, unfettered by other wills than her own. She joined the stagecoach at Bixford, for the first time in her life really without chaperone, and found that she was too fascinated by a cast of characters it would never normally fall upon her to meet, to be at all afraid.

  She had left a note for Miss Wilhelmina, apologising and assuring her that she was not in danger, but had only taken the stage to London. It would not matter, the house would not rise for hours, and they could never catch it. By that time she would be in London and she meant to — but here she hit a bump. She had thought of little but escape. Little except showing them all that she would not be tamed. Normally, she had a perfectly obvious (to her) end in view. A visit to a play, or to some attraction she was forbidden, a meeting with someone exciting. But this venture was simply a check-mate to Lady Ernestine, with no other end in view. She worried for a trifle. Was this silly? Then she looked at the cadaverous figure of the lawyer, opposite, who said such happy things in a miserable voice, ‘Lovely day, what?’ and knew she would not have missed this for the world. There was a farmer, complaining in almost indecipherable Devon dialect about his absent landowner, a lady who snored and scratched at herself in a most diverting way while sleeping, plus two boys of about fourteen who insisted on playing cards, though the bumps of the road sent them scattering every two minutes, the boys pushing at her legs and arms to retrieve them. She felt alive and glad, whatever the resulting punishment. If they sent her to Scotland, even, Sophy would find a way to escape. To be ruled was never to be her fate!

  She had it! She would return to the London house and take a high hand with the servants. She had at least a day’s grace, she thought. And she could change, and take a maid to the park, and when she returned to London herself, Lady Ernestine would admit that they should talk. It was a small victory, perhaps, and that irked her.

  But this plan was not to be put into action. For when she stepped from the stage, Sophy found a much larger adventure awaited her.

  On her way down to dinner that night, Beth pulled George aside. ‘George…’

  ‘Dobson, miss’

  ‘What? Oh yes, I’m sorry Dobson. But you must mention the picture frames to the housekeeper. It still is not done.’

  Dobson drew himself up to his full height, ‘I shall discuss the matter with her this evening, miss.’

  ‘Not yourself, I hope,’ said Beth, in an urgent under-breath. ‘It would be wiser to tell a footman to say that his lordship had mentioned the picture frames, else you will be the housekeeper’s bounden enemy.’

  Dobson looked at her quizzically, ‘Yes, miss. Is there anything else, miss?’

  ‘Oh, many things. The flowers are beginning to wilt, and the furniture on the first floor landing has dust beneath. But best not mention it. Hopefully she’ll be so humiliated at having the picture frames mentioned that she will take charge as she should.’

  ‘Yes miss,’ said Dobson, looking after
her as she bustled off after the princess.

  The marquis had been making his languid way downstairs for dinner and had observed his house guest, still wearing her rose sprigged muslin, in deep conversation with his new butler. As Beth disappeared into the dining room, he approached Dobson. ‘What was Miss Fox discussing with you - eh - Dobson?’

  The butler looked suitably inscrutable. ‘She was discussing some housekeeping deficiencies, my lord.’

  ‘Housekeeping—?’ the marquis looked around the hall for evidence.

  ‘Not so obvious, my lord,’ said the butler. ‘Dust on picture frames on the first floor, sir.’

  The marquis looked fascinated. ‘Is that all?’

  ‘Dust under furniture, your lordship.’ The marquis looked below the console table opposite him, shocked, but the butler cast his eyes above. ‘And she has drawn my attention to the flowers, my lord.’ Dobson’s eyes moved to the hall arrangement of tall lilies in a handsome Chinese vase. The marquis’s eyes followed.

  ‘They look well enough …’ said the marquis, then moved forward, despite himself. ‘No! They are a little sad. Have them replaced.’

  The butler gave the cough that all butlers used to forewarn of a view of their own, ‘Might it be tomorrow, my lord?’

  The marquis raised his brows.

  ‘It is just that Miss Fox has advised me that it may be better, to re-establish smooth running of the house, that I have just one thing mentioned to Mrs Fitch, in the hopes that this hint will spark improvement elsewhere.’ The marquis seemed to be considering. ‘Upon reflection, my lord, I cannot but think that Miss Fox might be wise.’

  The marquis nodded. ‘War at the offset, eh, Dobson? Yes, you might want to avoid that. Perhaps you should get someone else to mention it to Mrs Fitch. And say it comes from me.’

  ‘Miss Fox has already advised me to do so, my lord.’

  The marquis went into dinner. ‘It seems,’ he announced as he sat down, ‘that our housekeeping does not come up to scratch, Emmi.’ Beth blushed, wanting a hole to open up and swallow her.

  ‘Really? I hadn’t noticed,’ said Emmeline, indicating at the maid who was dispensing the soup from a handsome tureen.

  ‘That doesn’t surprise me. Princesses never see what their chattels do,’ answered the marquis to his sister, but regarding Beth’s embarrassment with amusement. ‘It is the third time I have been put right in the running of the household by Miss Fox.’

  ‘I am sorry, my lord; it was none of my business.’

  ‘Well, I think you very clever to be so knowledgeable, Beth,’ said the princess, comfortingly. ‘I know you are only teasing, Tobias, but you are distressing our friend. Please desist.’

  ‘Certainly, Your Highness,’ her brother said, mockingly inclining his head. ‘I’m sorry, Miss Fox. And I assure you I am very grateful.’

  ‘I know you must think it a dreadful intrusion, my lord. It is just that, as Geor — Dobson has only just begun to run the house, it seemed to me that he should begin aright,’ she had dropped her voice to avoid being overheard by the footmen, ‘And I cannot help noticing when things are not just as they ought to be.’

  ‘I expect it was your mother that taught you,’ said the princess, ‘Beth has the wisest mother, Wrexham. No, don’t look like that, Tobias, she did not tell me her name, only of her wisdom.’

  Beth tried to turn the subject again, anxious that the marquis should understand. ‘It was not my mother, actually, but a housekeeper in a house I — lived in.’ This was not precisely a lie. She wished them to remember later, that but for her name, she had never told them a lie. ‘But I should not have interfered. I beg your pardon.’

  ‘And so you should. It is not often that young guests order my household to their liking.’ He laughed at her, then. ‘Oh, do not look so, pray, my dear. I am very grateful to you for doing so quickly what I might have done some months ago, if I had noticed …’

  ‘There is not much to notice. And gentlemen do not concern themselves with such things …’

  ‘You are a marvel, Beth! You have scarce been here three days and yet you have proved yourself so useful already.’

  ‘Useful to you, Emmi?’ laughed Wrexham, ‘What concern do you have in the running of the household as long as your dinner arrives in time?’

  ‘Why none at all, Wrexham. It is just that I have been able to talk of so many things to Beth. Lady’s concerns, you know,’ she added when it seemed as though he guessed a little too much. Then her eyes sparkled mischievously, ‘It is almost as though I had a sister.’

  Beth’s face froze and it was some time before she could look up from her soup again. By that time, the marquis was chatting to his sister about a new on dit, involving the bets in the gentleman’s clubs on the pretenders to the newest heiress in town, the beautiful Miss Delphine Delacroix. ‘The main money is on Gascoigne.’

  ‘Dear Titus! He led me out for my first waltz. And then Mama forbade me to do so again. Only the country dances for the dangerous Viscount Gascoigne.’

  ‘Yes, well, much as I care for Titus, there is no saying he’s not in hot water with the duns. Mama was ambitious for you, and she feared Gascoigne’s charm,’ said the marquis comfortably.

  ‘She was certainly ambitious,’ said his sister coolly.

  ‘And see how well it turned out.’

  Beth could just reach Emmeline’s hand beneath the table. ‘Yes,’ the princess said brightly. ‘Just see!’

  He picked up his own words and said, ‘I’m sorry, Emmi. I should not refer to your loss.’

  ‘Never mind, Wrexham. I’m a Brunswick, after all, and we soldier on.’ She gave a last squeeze of Beth’s hand and the marquis could see that they exchanged a look of tender intimacy. The conversation turned.

  In due time, the marquis stayed with the port, while the ladies withdrew. He joined them rather sooner than was his wont in the drawing room, and surprised them in an embrace, his sister, his frivolous, guarded sister, sobbing on Beth’s shoulder. Beth exchanged a sober glance with him above the princess’s coiled hair, and he closed the door noisily.

  Emmi straightened quickly, still with her back to him. ‘I was just thanking Beth for joining us, Wrexham,’ she said brightly, but he saw her handkerchief fly to her hidden face.

  ‘I do not remember being given much of an option,’ said Beth, teasing Emmi to lift her spirits.

  ‘No indeed, we have been very ruthless, and have imprisoned you like one of Mrs Radcliffe’s heroines.’

  ‘Oh, yes. To be entombed in the finest house I have stayed in, with all my needs supplied is dreadful indeed!’ laughed Beth. ‘And I expect,’ she added honestly, thinking of Miss Sophy in this situation, ‘that if I’d really tried I could have escaped.’

  The marquis was caught by something else. ‘Is this the finest house you have ever stayed in, Miss Fox?’

  Beth considered honestly, gazing around the large, high-ceiling drawing room, painted in delicate sea green, with the tallest of windows allowing in the light of the street-lamps, letting it fall over the Aubusson carpet. ‘Well one was rather larger, being a country house,’ she said, thinking of Foster Hall, ‘and one, in London, was very ancient and strong, but I do think that this is the finest house.’ She blushed, as the marquis smiled at her.

  ‘I am very glad you approve,’ he said.

  The princess rose, and Beth rose too, but the marquis asked, ‘Will you remain, Miss Fox? There is something I wish to discuss with you.’

  ‘Well,’ said Emmi, smoothing her skirts, ‘I should not allow it, but if you leave the door open, I will. I find myself sleepier than usual tonight.’

  ‘Some hot milk!’ said Beth solicitously. Emmeline laughed, bent to kiss Beth’s cheek, and left them together.

  ‘Come with me to the library. This room has too much of an echo for private conversation.’

  She went after him, her heart in her throat, afraid somehow to be alone with him.

  She took a seat on the old leather sofa
, which smelt faintly of the cologne of a long line of marquises, she thought, and he stood before the fire.

  ‘I wanted to thank you, without the teasing, this time, for all your help with my household. I think it only a matter of time that the diversion from the course Dow had set us would have irrupted into much discomfort for my sister and me. And a split in the household more difficult to address, without casting off the whole staff.’ He said it easily, and it chilled Beth once more that people’s lives could be so easily discarded. ‘Ah, I have upset you again,’ he looked sorry. ‘Do not deny it, Miss Fox. I fear your face betrays your feelings very fully. Now what can I have said this time?’

  ‘You talk of casting off people … so easily,’ she said, unable to stop herself.

  ‘Did I? I spoke frivolously, I believe. I would not of course cast everyone off. You must realise that some of my people have been with the family for generations. They are in effect, under my protection, and I do not take this responsibility lightly, I assure you.’ He smiled down at her, coming nearer. ‘You are a strange little creature, Miss Fox. Making my house over in a way that someone your age might never even be aware of, and making a confidant of my sister, who does not, for all her rattling, confide easily.’

  Beth’s eyes raised to his, unable to look away.

  ‘It is most unlike my sister to share her grief. I have tried, but our family has always been rather inept at sharing our feelings, or even showing them. That is why I am so very glad that Emmi has been able to share with you.’ He turned, some feelings of his own overcoming him, and looked into the fire, one foot resting on the hearth. In the expression she read perhaps a little humiliation, a little envy of the princess’s confidence, plus a deeper concern for her pain.

  Beth was able to look at him without dissimulation then, when he could not see her. She admired his strong shoulders that she was beginning to understand bore so much. His hair curled at his high collar, his blue coat and buff panatalons were crafted to fit him perfectly — all the magnificence of the Marquis of Wrexham, just as she had seen him those few days ago. But now she knew his bearing sought to hide his burden under a show of casual relaxation, but she was not quite convinced. He was deeply concerned for his sister, and quite unable to help her, he believed.