by Ann Barker
‘Shocking!’ exclaimed the clergyman under his breath, as they set off down the road. Jessie almost gasped audibly. For one dreadful moment, it seemed as if he had guessed her thoughts and passed judgement upon her. It was with quite a sense of relief that she heard him continue, ‘I do not know when I have been more embarrassed.’
‘I should not allow the matter to disturb you,’ said Jessie, not immediately understanding what he was taking about. ‘I am sure that most people did not notice that you were late for the service.’
‘I was not late for the service,’ he answered, speaking rather more sharply than he was wont to do when addressing her. ‘You misunderstand me. I was talking about being obliged to associate with that man.’
This time, Jessie understood immediately to whom he was referring, but she could feel her temper rising and decided to make him spell it out. ‘I thought you liked Mr Hinder,’ she said innocently. ‘If he made you late, then I am sure that he did not do so on purpose.’
‘I was not late and I was not speaking about Mr Hinder,’ Mr Lusty insisted, his tone definitely impatient now. ‘I was talking about that … that degenerate!’
‘I beg your pardon?’ said Jessie, looking straight up at him. He had the grace to blush.
‘I am only telling the truth,’ he said, in a more moderate tone. ‘Ashbourne is a libertine, and all of London knows it.’
Jessie was conscious of a sudden longing to defend Raff, but she bit her lip. The fact of the matter was that Henry spoke the truth. She could not allow his comment to pass unchallenged however, so in a neutral tone, she merely said, ‘I would have thought that you would have been wise to keep your thoughts about his morals to yourself, at least until he has signed the document confirming your appointment to the parish of Illingham.’
He looked down on her in surprise, as if such a notion had not occurred to him. Her words clearly had some effect, however, for on their arrival in Sloane Street, he was perfectly courteous, if not affable, towards their noble visitor. For his part, Raff refrained from saying or doing anything calculated to shock or annoy the clergyman. The only time that Henry appeared tight-lipped was when the subject turned to his appointment.
It was Mrs Machin who, taking pity on Henry, asked Lord Ashbourne whether he had been approached by the bishop. The earl shook his head. ‘He has not addressed one word to me, either in person or in writing.’
‘I know that such is not the case, my lord,’ Lusty protested, his chin up. ‘The bishop has told me himself that he is waiting for your signature.’
‘Then the bishop is either very forgetful or a liar,’ replied Ashbourne blandly. ‘I have heard nothing of the matter.’
‘I would never imagine the bishop to be a liar,’ said Lusty daringly.
Ashbourne stared at him for a long moment, those famous eyebrows of his soaring. The clergyman flushed. Then, breaking the tension, the earl turned to Jessie. ‘I must certainly do something about it for your sake, my dear Jez,’ he said smoothly. ‘You will enjoy living in a place that has been home to you for so many years, I imagine.’
This was the issue that had kept her awake the night before last. At the time, she had not been able to think why it was so disturbing. Now, all at once a number of images flashed through her mind. She had certainly been happy living in the rectory with Lady Agatha, but how would it feel to be there with Henry Lusty instead? How would she feel to be so close to the town of Ashbourne, knowing that Raff might turn up at any time? She thought of being able to see more of Lady Ilam, which she would enjoy; but being near to Lady Ilam would mean being close to Illingham Hall, where a certain portrait of Raff, which had caused her heartache in the past, was hung. Instead of saying something polite and meaningless, she simply stared blankly at Raff, and he stared back at her, a puzzled expression on his face.
Fortunately, Henry had been distracted by another matter. ‘From where does that nickname “Jez” come?’ he asked disdainfully.
‘You would prefer that I used her full name?’ the earl enquired lazily, the long shapely fingers of his right hand turning the stem of his wine glass. He was aware of Jessie’s eyes fixed upon him, willing him not to give away her secret. He grinned ruefully.
Mr Lusty would have preferred it infinitely if Lord Ashbourne never came closer to his fiancée than shouting distance over perhaps two fields. Naturally he did not say so. ‘I think that Jessica is a charming name,’ he said. ‘I regard all abbreviations of names as a vulgarity.’
Ashbourne inclined his head. ‘I must remember to tell the Prince of Wales so next time he calls me Raff,’ he remarked. ‘As for your fiancée, you must excuse me. I have known her for more than half her life and during all that time I have called her Jez. I am a creature of habit. You really cannot expect me to change now.’
Mr Lusty looked as if he might challenge this, but fortunately Mr Hinder asked the clergyman about another point of philosophy, and the difficult moment passed.
‘If I might but borrow your copy of Rousseau, my dear Mrs Machin, I could make my point with more authority,’ said Mr Hinder, his enthusiasm making him forget the need for discretion.
Lusty turned a shocked face towards his sister, but before he could make any comment she said smoothly, ‘You are mistaken, Mr Hinder. I do not possess a copy of that book. You must be confusing me with another acquaintance.’
Hinder blushed. ‘Yes, of course,’ he agreed. ‘Then, sir, pray come to my lodgings, so that I might show you what I was talking about earlier.’
While the clergyman hesitated, Lord Ashbourne said easily, ‘In that case, Lusty, I will say goodbye, as I am on the point of leaving myself.’
The fear of leaving his sister and his betrothed in the company of a rake disposed of, the clergyman left, eager to pursue an argument which had not by any means been finished as they walked to church.
After Lusty and Hinder had gone, Ashbourne sat back down in
his chair, crossed his legs and leaned back with the air of a man intent upon taking his ease.
‘Another glass of wine?’ Henrietta asked him, indicating the bottle. ‘Don’t worry. They’ll be ages yet.’
‘Thank you,’ answered Ashbourne with a grin. ‘If I were you, though, I’d hide that copy of Rousseau, at least until your brother’s gone. Do you have anywhere to put all your other suspect reading matter? Would you like me to procure a hackney, or maybe two, and take it all away?’
Henrietta laughed. ‘You are teasing me, Raff. All dangerous works are safely in my bedroom.’
Jessie sat up rather straight. When Mr Lusty had criticized Raff, she had wanted to defend the earl. Now, oddly enough, she felt obliged to speak a word for the clergyman. ‘It does not become you, my lord, to criticize a man when he is not here to defend himself,’ she said.
‘I’m not criticizing him,’ he replied reasonably. ‘I’m just suggesting that Henrietta should take steps to make sure that her reading matter doesn’t offend him.’
‘You have no need to tell me that,’ Henrietta replied frankly. ‘I love my brother dearly, and have the greatest respect for him, but it is not necessary or desirable for him to know about everything that I do.’
‘Hence your decision not to tell him about our visit to Vauxhall, I assume.’
‘Exactly so,’ replied Mrs Machin, beaming at his understanding.
Ashbourne looked quizzically at Jessie. ‘Am I right in thinking that you disapprove?’ he asked her.
She looked directly at him. ‘Yes, I do,’ she replied frankly.
‘But not sufficiently to say that you will not go,’ he observed. ‘Is that not just a little hypocritical?’
She coloured. ‘Yes, you are right,’ she admitted. ‘You may add that to all my other sins.’
Henrietta came to her rescue. ‘She wanted to confess to Henry,’ she said, ‘but I would not let her.’
Ashbourne leaned across and took Jessie’s hand. ‘Sins!’ he exclaimed. ‘You don’t know the meaning of the word. Yo
u must be one of the best people I know, Jez. Come to Vauxhall and don’t belabour your conscience about it either. You may tell Henry about it when you have been married a few years. It will be one of the adventures of your youth.’
She smiled at him, and the sweetness of her expression tugged at his heartstrings.
Chapter Twelve
Mr Lusty came back from Mr Hinder’s lodgings a little later looking very well pleased with himself. ‘The fellow does not understand what he is talking about,’ he said. ‘I suppose one must make allowances for the inexperience of youth, but I would be glad, my dear Henrietta, if you would try to see as little of him as possible. I do not think that the tone of his mind is suitable for the company of females.’
‘That would make life a little difficult for us,’ his sister protested. ‘It is not proper for ladies to go about the town without a male escort. When we went to the theatre—’
‘The theatre!’ exclaimed Mr Lusty. Two spots of colour appeared on his cheeks. ‘You have been to the theatre!’
Mrs Machin made a swift recovery. ‘Certainly we have been to the theatre,’ she answered, her head held high. ‘It is a perfectly rational and respectable occupation. Really, Henry, anyone would think that we had been consorting with the actresses!’
Jez was astonished to hear Henrietta squaring up to her brother so vigorously. She was just as surprised when he accepted her reproof. ‘I beg your pardon,’ he answered. ‘Of course, it must have been some improving work. No doubt, too, you left before the farce.’
‘We saw Mrs Siddons,’ Jessie contributed, ignoring the last part of his speech. ‘Her performance was elevating in the extreme.’
‘No doubt, no doubt,’ agreed Lusty. ‘The chief danger of the theatre, I am bound to say, is in the company in which one finds oneself rather than in the performance. It is there, I fear, that one finds oneself forced to rub shoulders with such degenerates as Lord Ashbourne.’ His expression changed to one of grave disapproval. ‘I do trust, Sister, that you are not encouraging him to run tame in your house. His company is unsuitable for respectable ladies.’
At this criticism, Jessie felt her hackles rising and she found herself speaking before she had had time to consider whether her words were wise. ‘May I remind you, sir, that the gentleman whom you are criticizing attended church with us today? What is more, he actually managed to arrive in time to sit with us for the service. In my opinion, it ill behoves a clergyman to speak against a fellow-worshipper in this way.’
Mr Lusty stared at her, entirely bereft of speech. Henrietta spoke into the silence, saying placatingly, ‘Indeed, Henry, he certainly seemed to be well acquainted with the responses, and he has an excellent singing voice for the hymns.’
Her intervention did not have the desired effect. Lusty’s expression turned from baffled to furious. ‘Oh, it’s well known that the Devil can pipe a good tune,’ he said savagely.
Jessie’s backbone stiffened. ‘That is enough,’ she said coldly. ‘If you cannot express yourself with more moderation, I have no further desire to converse with you, and I will bid you good day.’ She swept from the room.
‘Jessica!’ exclaimed Mr Lusty. ‘Come back at once!’ She did not do so. He turned to look at his sister, an expression of consternation on his face.
‘She will come back presently,’ said Mrs Machin soothingly. ‘Really, Henry, you were a little unwise, you know.’
‘Unwise?’
‘Why yes,’ she agreed, rather enjoying the novel sensation of being the one who was offering advice rather than having to listen to it. ‘Remember that she has lived with Lord Ashbourne’s sister for eight years. It would indeed be a shocking thing for her to listen to her patroness’s brother being maligned without saying anything.’
‘Yes, but—’
‘Remember, too, that your living cannot be confirmed without the earl’s signature. Doubtless Jessie was thinking about safeguarding your future – yours, and hers.’
‘Yes, but …’ Mr Lusty said again, but stopped, this time of his own accord. ‘All that may be as you say, but I cannot like his being here,’ he went on eventually.
‘There cannot be any harm in his being here in your company, surely,’ said Henrietta soothingly.
The clergyman’s expression lightened. ‘Well, if you say that he has only been here today, it is a different matter,’ he said in a relieved tone.
‘He might even have wanted to become a little acquainted with you,’ his sister suggested, not deeming it wise to contradict his misunderstanding over the number of times that the rakish earl had visited them. ‘To make sure that you are a suitable incumbent for the parish, perhaps.’
No one who knew Lord Ashbourne even very slightly could possibly indulge such a bizarre notion. Fortunately, Mr Lusty was not one of those people. ‘Yes, that may be so,’ agreed Lusty. His face took on an arrested expression. ‘I do hope that I did not say anything to vex him.’
Mrs Machin could remember very clearly one or two infelicitous remarks that her brother had made, but she did not think that now was the moment to remind him of them. Instead she said, ‘I think that you might have been a little severe in your manner, but I have often found that severity is commended in a clergyman. In any case, I do not think that Lord Ashbourne would find a fawning manner at all pleasing.’
‘You are very right,’ he agreed in a relieved tone. ‘I must remember that when I meet him again.’
He did not have the opportunity of renewing his lordship’s acquaintance before his departure the following day. He did, however, make a point of seeking out his betrothed and mending matters between them.
A younger son of a minor country squire, Henry Lusty had a very small private income, but had always known that he would need to make his way in the world. A fortunate family acquaintance with the Bishop of Sheffield had meant that when the vacancy of bishop’s chaplain had occurred, he had been the first choice to fill it. It had been in connection with his duties carried out for the bishop that he had first met Jessie, whilst she was companion to Lady Agatha Rayner.
Lady Agatha, the widow of the last incumbent of the parish of Illingham, had employed all kinds of methods, some of them of very dubious morality, to try to avoid vacating the vicarage. It had been Henry Lusty’s unenviable task to keep calling upon her to try to carry out the bishop’s wishes.
During these visits, Lusty had met Jessie. Of pleasing appearance, although not so extravagantly pretty to attract undue attention, she had impressed him both by her modest demeanour, and by her calmness in the midst of all her employer’s schemes. He had always intended to marry, but knew that it would be wise to wait until a parish became available to him. The bishop had made it plain that if he managed to achieve Lady Agatha’s eviction smoothly, then the living of Illingham was as good as his. He could not doubt that to continue to live in the house that had been her home for the past eight years would be pleasing to Jessie. He would even – and here he swallowed convulsively – be prepared to have Lady Agatha to live with them if necessary, like a sort of adopted mother-in-law. He had forgotten that his marriage to Jessie would, of necessity, bring him into a closer relationship with Lord Ashbourne.
He was not well acquainted with the notorious earl, having met him for the first time shortly before Lord Ilam’s wedding. He had known of Ashbourne’s reputation and had been very disapproving of it. He did not expect to like the earl, but then he never expected to have to meet him. He knew, from popular rumour, that his lordship spent a large part of his time raising hell all over Europe. He had always thought that the earl would take no interest in the choice of vicar, and would leave the matter to his sister or possibly his son.
Once Ashbourne had come back to England, Lusty well understood the necessity for being courteous to him. He had simply not thought that their paths would cross. It had certainly never occurred to him that he would find his lordship escorting his sister and betrothed to church, sitting next to them – he ground his teeth �
� and joining them for refreshments. He found it very irksome indeed that Henrietta and Jessie should seem to be so much at ease with a man whose company he found it hard to stomach. He found it even more irksome that the moment he had ventured to make some perfectly justifiable criticism of the rakish earl, Jessie should have stalked out, for all the world as if she had some right to be offended. However, he told himself that he must bear in mind the close association between her and Lady Agatha. No doubt, as his sister had said, Jessie was also concerned that he should not speak intemperately and lose the chance of his first parish.
Fortunately Jessie, too, was anxious to make amends, and when he sought her out the following morning – having been unable to see her later on the Sunday because he had a dinner with some other clergymen to attend – they were both determined to forgive and forget.
‘I spoke intemperately of one related to your employer, and you were right to reprove me,’ he said, taking her hand. ‘I must beg your pardon.’
‘Your concerns were understandable,’ Jessie replied in a neutral tone. ‘Indeed, Ashbourne’s reputation is very bad; I cannot deny it.’
‘As a clergyman, I should have remembered that there is good in everyone.’
‘He has been very kind to me. I must always be grateful to him for that.’
‘When was this?’ asked Lusty suspiciously.
‘When I was a little girl.’
‘Oh. Well, I dare say we shall have nothing much to do with him when we are married. He is often abroad, is he not?’
‘Yes; often. At what time does your coach go, Henry?’ They said no more about the matter.
Later that evening, after the ladies had said goodbye to him in the hall, they wandered back into the drawing-room. ‘You will … be kind to him, won’t you?’ Henrietta ventured after she had rung for some tea.