The Waverly Women Series (3-Book Bundle)

by M C Beaton

  Fanny sighed with relief when they were led into a cool dark kitchen. The food was good and plentiful and there was even ale to go with it. The earl and Fanny ate and drank silently, each aware of the grim housekeeper, who stood watching them with her arms folded.

  When they were finished, the earl said, “If you will convey me to your master, my good woman, we will thank him.”

  “Don’t give me any of your hoity-toity airs,” said the housekeeper. “Off with the pair of you and don’t come around here again!”

  She held open the kitchen door and jerked her head.

  The earl was obviously about to protest, but Fanny tugged at his sleeve. “Let’s go,” she whispered. “No one here is going to believe us if we talk and talk till Doomsday.”

  The earl paused on the threshold, remembering that farmer, a sudden sharp suspicion crossing his mind.

  “Which way is Brighton?” he asked the housekeeper.

  “Turn left at the bottom of the drive and keep on going,” she said.

  “Are you sure?” wailed Fanny. “We have just come that way and we walked miles and miles.”

  “That’s the way to Brighton and that’s the way it’s always been,” said the housekeeper.

  They wearily trudged down the drive.

  “We had better go on the way we were going,” said the earl. “Oh, here comes that tiresome woman again!”

  The housekeeper came running after them. She reluctantly held out a guinea to Fanny. “Master says you’ve to take this,” she said. “Throwing away good money, I call it.”

  “Thank him very much,” said Fanny quickly, for she feared the earl was going to refuse.

  They walked out into the road.

  “Since he is the rector, the church must be quite near,” said the earl, “and where there’s a church, there will be houses.”

  Fanny stumbled and swayed, and he caught her in his arms.

  “I’m sorry,” said Fanny weakly. “It’s the effect of the drug and the food and the sunshine. If I could just lie down for a few moments …”

  “There’s a field over there,” said the earl. “We can lie in the shade of the hedge for a bit.”

  He swung her up in his arms and carried her into the field. He lowered her gently onto the grass and then took off his coat and made it into a pillow and put it under her head. He lay down beside her and took her in his arms and cradled her against his chest.

  “Sleep, Fanny,” he said. “Look, I’m sorry for all the hard things I said to you. I was a fool not to have taken that money from the cottage table.”

  But Fanny was already asleep. He kissed her tenderly on the cheek and then fell asleep himself.

  ***

  When Mr. Fordyce had returned after failing to find the couple, he expected the house to be in an uproar. But Felicity and Frederica had assumed Fanny had escaped to go walking by the sea and so had lied to Mrs. Waverley that she was lying down in her room, and the earl was assumed to be well on the road to London, Mr. Fordyce having sent the earl’s valet away, saying his master was waiting for him in town.

  Mr. Fordyce sought out Lady Artemis. “I am terrified,” he said. “We must have been mad. Tredair will be here at any moment, and he will either call me out or take both of us to court. You’ve no idea what’s he’s like when he’s in a rage.”

  “I think I drank too much champagne last night,” said Lady Artemis. “My love, perhaps it would be better if we moved back to London. Mrs. Waverley can have the house. She will be glad to be shot of us, and she has her own servants here.”

  “That is a cowardly action,” said Mr. Fordyce. “I think we should face Tredair together.”

  “He will kill you,” pointed out Lady Artemis.

  Felicity and Frederica watched anxiously as Lady Artemis and Mr. Fordyce made hurried preparations for their departure. They were becoming increasingly worried over Fanny’s disappearance.

  When Lady Artemis and Mr. Fordyce had finally set out on the London road, both went to see Mrs. Waverley and told that astounded and furious woman that Fanny had disappeared, leaving all her clothes and jewels behind.

  “She has gone off with Tredair, you fools,” said Mrs. Waverley. “Did you not think of that?” She began to cry. “Fanny is a wicked girl. Her name must never be mentioned in this house again. Never!”

  “She would not go without leaving us a letter,” said Frederica stubbornly.

  “She never cared for anyone but herself,” said Mrs. Waverley passionately. “She is a snake! A viper!”

  Frederica and Felicity retreated quietly and went upstairs to one of the rooms that had a bay window overlooking the sea. They sat in silence, holding hands, and watching the sun sink lower in the sky. Neither could believe that Fanny was gone and would never return.

  ***

  The earl awoke and looked up at the purple sky. The birds were chirping sleepily in the hedge above his head. He had not meant to sleep so long. Fanny’s head was on his chest, and her curls were tickling his nose. Her body lay against his. He was strangely content. Nothing mattered anymore except that he held Fanny in his arms. It was all very simple, he thought dreamily. I shall get us out of this predicament, and I shall marry her.

  He sat up and raised Fanny up with him. She came awake, grumbling sleepily. He kissed her gently on the mouth. She tried to push him away, and then as if she, too, was feeling that same contentment, she relaxed against him and kissed him back.

  They both sank back on the grass and lay there, kissing each other long and lazily. “Marry me?” said the earl at last.

  “How?” said Fanny. “Mrs. Waverley will not give her permission and was not responsible for our abduction.”

  “Gretna,” he whispered against her lips. “Why not?”

  “Why not, indeed,” murmured Fanny, all thoughts of finding work as a governess vanishing as their lips joined in another long drugged kiss.

  “Will we always quarrel?” she asked at last.

  “Never again,” he said.

  “Perhaps we should be on our way,” said Fanny. “I think we should go to this village and throw ourselves on the mercy of the parish constable.”

  “Of all the stupid ideas!”

  “It is not stupid,” said Fanny, pushing him away. “What’s your famous idea?”

  “We have a guinea. We find an inn and …”

  “And get insulted and turned from the doors. Look at the mess we are in! A parish constable cannot think we are villains or we would not seek him out.”

  “Listen to me … !”

  “No! You listen to me, you overbearing, annoying creature,” raged Fanny. “I come up with a perfectly sensible idea …”

  “Which I accept,” he said, kissing her nose. “I thought we weren’t going to quarrel ever again.”

  “You started it by being stupid and obnoxious and bullying.”

  “Either you get up and on your way, Fanny,” he said, “or I shall keep you here all night.”

  The village proved to be a mile farther on. They were shown the roundhouse and soon confronted the parish constable, an elderly shopkeeper who had been regretting that it was his month to be constable and who brightened at this odd diversion. He believed the earl simply because he wanted to believe him. He was bored and tired, and the idea of having a real live earl in his roundhouse was surely something to tell his grandchildren. He accordingly sent a note to the local magistrate saying that he had the Earl of Tredair in the roundhouse, rather than saying he had someone claiming to be the Earl of Tredair.

  The magistrate arrived and listened to the earl’s story, appalled. Fanny had been right. The magistrate was perfectly sure an imposter would go nowhere near the authorities. He begged the earl to accept accommodation for the night at his own home, but the earl wearily asked the use of a carriage. The magistrate’s servants could go to Brighton with them and make sure they were who they said they were.

  The earl would have liked to enliven the journey by making love to Fann
y, but the magistrate’s wife had sent her own lady’s maid to accompany Fanny and make all respectable. With a sinking heart, Fanny had heard the magistrate and his wife promising the earl that they would both swear the couple had been with them the whole time so that the earl should not be compromised.

  It was five in the morning when the magistrate’s coachman knocked loudly on the knocker of the house in Brighton. At last Mrs. Ricketts appeared, in cap and nightgown. She took one look at Fanny and the earl and began to cry with relief.

  “Oh, Miss Fanny,” she sobbed. “I knew you would not leave us without saying good-bye.”

  Frederica and Felicity came hurtling down the stairs and into Fanny’s outstretched arms. Then came Mrs. Waverley, her heavy face alight with relief. Her stray chick was home. She had trounced Tredair before, and she could trounce him again.

  As Fanny was led up the stairs by Felicity and Frederica after all the explanations, the earl said, “A word with you, Mrs. Waverley, after I have thanked these servants and sent them home.”

  “Not tonight,” said Mrs. Waverley. “So much shock and worry have quite overset me. In the morning, my lord, I pray you.”

  The earl nodded curtly and turned away.

  Mrs. Waverley began to plot and plan.

  As Felicity and Frederica sat on the end of Fanny’s bed after she had undressed, all came to the conclusion that Lady Artemis had played a trick on Fanny out of spite. “They must be brought to court,” cried Felicity.

  “No,” said Fanny. “No scandal. I am going to marry Tredair and that will be scandal enough.”

  “I do wish you would stop this silly business of marrying Tredair,” said Felicity. “He doesn’t want to marry you. He can’t. He wants a mistress. He is only tricking you.”

  “I am going to marry him with or without Mrs. Waverley’s permission,” said Fanny.

  “Why?”

  “I love him!”

  “Nonsense,” said Frederica practically. “You know you only think you are going to lead a free life by marrying him. But you won’t have any freedom. You’ll be his mistress, having bastard after bastard, like some sort of queen bee until he tires of you.”

  “I am very tired already. Go away,” said Fanny furiously.

  She was so angry with them, she thought she would not sleep, but her eyes began to close as soon as they had left the room.

  Chapter Eleven

  It was four the following afternoon before Mrs. Waverley agreed to see the earl.

  Almost before he began to speak, he knew his request to marry Fanny would be turned down.

  Nonetheless, he began, “I hope you will not continue to be foolish, Mrs. Waverley. Fanny must be allowed to marry me. You have no good reason to stop her.”

  “I have every reason,” said Mrs. Waverley. “Firstly, I do not believe you. You promise marriage, but you do not intend to go through with it. You want Fanny as your mistress and do not like your will to be crossed. Also, I think blaming your friend and Lady Artemis for having abducted you a shabby thing to do. It was you, my lord, who abducted Fanny. Is she still a virgin?”

  The earl’s face darkened with fury. “If you were a man, I would strike you,” he raged. “I am rapidly coming to the conclusion that you have a filthy mind!”

  “I am a woman,” said Mrs. Waverley, unmoved by his rage. “Women have a natural modesty. Men do not. They wish to sate their lusts under the guise of a pretty name like love. Beasts, all!”

  He looked at her fat, seemingly smug face and controlled himself with an obvious effort.

  “Let me tell you this, Mrs. Waverley, and listen well. I am leaving for London. I am going to wring Fordyce’s neck and then begin arrangements to take Fanny away from you. Do not try to take her away from me or hide her. I shall return and find her wherever you have put her.”

  Mrs. Waverley crossed her hands in her lap and gave him a look like stone.

  He gave her a brief bow and walked from the room. He went straight up to Fanny’s bedchamber, thinking hard. He should not have put Mrs. Waverley on her guard. The door opened before he could knock. “I was waiting and listening for you,” said Fanny. “What did she say?”

  She stood aside to let him enter and then closed the door.

  “She still insists on crediting me with the worst intentions. I want you to make sure she does not try to spirit you away, Fanny. So please pretend that you have dismissed me. No! You must listen. I must go to London and make preparations for our journey to Gretna. I must punch Fordyce’s head, that is, if he is guilty, although it seems that way. I must wind up my affairs. Please go on as you would if you had not met me. Do not even confide in the other girls or in the servants. Do you understand?”

  “She might see it in my eyes,” said Fanny. “Hate, I mean. I do hate her for standing in my way.”

  “Think only of pity when you look at her,” said the earl, trying to be reasonable, although at that moment he felt like throttling Mrs. Waverley. “She is a sad, frightened, lonely woman. In return for her previous kindness, treat her with courtesy until I come for you.”

  “When will that be?” asked Fanny.

  “A week. Look for me in a week’s time.”

  “We may not be here. She did not want to stay in Lady Artemis’s house.”

  “That, I think, was while Lady Artemis was in residence and likely to entertain. Now Lady Artemis has gone, and Mrs. Waverley has her own servants and the three of you to herself. The news from London is that the mob did not get as far as Hanover Square. The militia stopped them in Oxford Street. But do not tell Mrs. Waverley that. She may try to return to town, and I do not want to miss you when I come here and find you have set out for London.”

  He held out his arms and Fanny went into them. He kissed her gently at first and then fiercely. “Wait for me, Fanny, and trust in me,” he said urgently.

  ***

  Lady Artemis and Mr. Fordyce announced their betrothal in the newspapers. But they were not a very happy couple. Mr. Fordyce was appalled at what he had done, and Lady Artemis did not help by pointing out that members of society played worse jokes on each other every day of the week. Mr. Fordyce envied her careless ways and easy conscience.

  But Lady Artemis was disturbed. Sometimes she wondered if she had really thought up that abduction to help Fanny or whether it had been to punish Lord Tredair for having given her a lecture. Mr. Fordyce always seemed to be in her home. She thought of Mrs. Waverley’s words and felt her freedom eroding away a bit at a time. Her servants now turned to Mr. Fordyce for their orders, not her. His perpetually passionate and innovative lovemaking was beginning to make her feel like a slut. She had a longing to be treated like a delicate flower, to be courted. He had irritating little mannerisms that were rapidly beginning to grate on her nerves. She did not like the way he made little slurping noises when he drank his tea. She did not like the way he slapped her on the bottom when lovemaking was over and called her ‘Good girl,’ as if she were a horse that had run well at Newmarket. She had canceled the tutors after Mrs. Waverley’s lessons had begun. Now she was anxious to resume her studies. All this had happened in a mere two days.

  Above all she missed the joys of the chase. What was the point of going out to a ball or party when all the gentlemen knew you were already someone else’s property.

  By the third day she was beginning to hope Lord Tredair would call Mr. Fordyce out.

  On the fourth day she learned that Tredair was already back in London. Why he had not come near her, she did not know, but she knew he would come soon. The fact that he was delaying his visit did not suggest a duel, rather it suggested an angry lord consulting his lawyers with a view to taking both of them to court.

  That evening, Lady Artemis sent word to Mr. Fordyce that she had a headache and he was on no account to call. She did not tell him the news of Tredair’s return. Then she called her servants and asked them to get her traveling carriage ready and pack her bags. She was going to Paris. Peace had been declared
, and the English were flocking to Paris for the first time in years.

  At midnight, when the lights in Mr. Fordyce’s house across the square had been extinguished, Lady Fordyce made her way quietly into her traveling carriage. She sat on the edge of the seat, her hands clenched, waiting and waiting in case there should be a cry of alarm that would prove Mr. Fordyce had seen her departure.

  She sat bolt upright and rigid until a few miles had passed, and then she sank back against the upholstery and closed her eyes.

  Freedom!

  Perhaps on her return, she would seek out that odd woman, Mrs. Waverley, and continue her studies.

  The next day Mr. Fordyce went eagerly across the square with a light step. He hammered on the door of Lady Artemis’s house. Her butler opened it, but instead of immediately standing back to let Mr. Fordyce enter, he barred the way.

  “What is all this, Humphrey?” asked Mr. Fordyce, surveying the butler’s gloomy face. “Mistress still ill?”

  “The mistress has gone, sir,” said the butler.

  “Gone out? Where? It is too early to make calls.”

  “I mean, gone from London, sir.”

  “Nonsense, Humphrey. I do not believe you.” Mr. Fordyce pushed his way past and ran up the stairs. The drawing room was empty except for a footman in his shirt sleeves who was standing on a ladder shrouding the chandelier in holland cloth.

  Mr. Fordyce went up to Lady Artemis’s bedchamber. It was a mess. Clothes were lying discarded everywhere, but he could tell after a glance that the best items in her wardrobe had gone.

  “I told you so,” said the butler gloomily from the doorway. “Here’s a letter for you.”

  “Why didn’t you say so earlier, man?” said Mr. Fordyce, seizing it and breaking open the seal.

  “Dear Mr. Fordyce,” he read, “By the time you receive this, I shall be on my way to Wales to stay with a relative. Do not try to follow me. I made a great mistake and wish my freedom back again. I wish to terminate our engagement. Forgive me. V.A.”

  “Where in Wales has she gone?” he cried. The butler, who knew very well his mistress was bound for Paris, shook his head. “I do not know,” he lied. “My lady would not tell us.”