The Passionate Friends

by Meg Alexander

  Sebastian’s chef was a master of his craft, but Judith was in a dreamlike state, unaware of what she was eating. She nibbled at a tiny lobster vol-au-vent and allowed herself to be helped to a serving of broiled fowl, but she waved aside the preserved goose, the dish of ham in maderia sauce, a fine serpent of mutton, and the chef’s speciality, neats’ tongues dressed to a jealously guarded recipe.

  “My dear Judith, you will cause the wizard in the kitchen to pack his bags if you spurn his efforts,” Dan protested. “You haven’t eaten enough to keep a bird alive.”

  “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking.” Judith collected her wandering thoughts. “The syllabub looks delicious, and so do the fruit jellies.” She took a little of both dishes, hoping to restore herself to favour with the god below stairs.

  Dan signalled to the butler to replenish her glass.

  “No, thank you!” She laid her hand across the rim.

  “Nonsense, it will do you good! Red wine, you know, is said to be the answer to all ills.” He removed her hand, and watched as the ruby liquid flowed.

  Judith laughed. “Not if it results in a dreadful headache,” she protested.

  “Two glasses cannot hurt you.”

  “But, Dan, I shall be chattering like a monkey.”

  “It will be a change. You have been quiet tonight.”

  “Have I? I beg your pardon. I didn’t mean to be a dull companion.”

  “You are never that, my best of friends, but you have not spoken for the past ten minutes.”

  “Forgive me! It is just that…well…I was enjoying the peace in this lovely restful room.”

  “Is peace so rare with you, my dear?”

  “It has been,” she admitted. “Life at home is not always pleasant.”

  He sat back then, his eyes intent upon her face.

  “I would describe that as the understatement of the year, Judith. I can’t think how you have survived your life with Mrs Aveton. I had thought you must have married long ago. Were you never tempted?”

  “No!” she said briefly. “You will wish to enjoy your port and a cigar. I told Bessie that I should not be late tonight. Will you excuse me if I leave you now?”

  “No, I will not! Must you run away? I don’t want port and I don’t want a cigar. What I do want is to talk to you. Shall we go into the salon?”

  Judith glanced at the butler, and at the impassive faces of the footmen. To refuse might lead to an undignified argument before the servants. In silence she preceded him from the room.

  “Cross with me?” he asked lightly.

  “Of course not!” Judith felt uneasy. She had been foolish to bring up the subject of Mrs Aveton. Her face clouded. By tomorrow that lady would be in full possession of the news that Judith had accompanied Dan to Madame Tussaud’s with no other members of the family present except for Sebastian’s boys.

  Then, unwittingly, Dan added to her worries.

  “I’m still waiting for your decision,” he said.

  “About what?”

  “About your next expedition. Is it to be to Astley’s, to the fireworks, or to the balloon ascent?”

  A lump came to Judith’s throat. “I doubt if I shall be here,” she whispered in choked tones.

  “Why ever not? I thought that the dragon had given you permission to stay for several days.”

  “That was before she knew that you were likely to return. Oh, Dan, don’t you see? The Countess will tell her. Then I shall be summoned home.”

  “I think you haven’t reckoned with Sebastian.”

  “It won’t make any difference. If she insists he can do nothing. Besides, I feel so guilty as it is…” A slow tear trickled down her cheek.

  “Ah, don’t!”

  Neither of them seemed to move, but suddenly she was in his arms, her cheek pressed to his coat. Through the fine fabric she could feel the pounding of his heart, and it seemed as if, at last, her dearest wish was to be granted. Now he would tell her that his affections were unchanged, and he still loved her.

  She lifted her face to his, longing for the kiss that would wipe away all memory of those years of loss and desolation. Her heart was in her eyes as she looked at him, but he made no move to seek her mouth.

  Gently he placed his hands upon her shoulders, and held her away.

  “I can’t bear to see you so distressed,” he murmured. “Trust Sebastian, Judith! He won’t allow you to be taken away so soon.”

  She couldn’t have been more stunned if he had struck her. She’d have preferred it. A blow would have sent her spinning into oblivion, unaware of the agony of mind which now possessed her.

  She had thrown herself at him and been rejected. Her passionate embrace had been so warm that he must have known that she was offering her heart. He had refused it. Judith felt that she wanted to die. She grew so pale that he helped her to a chair. She did not notice that he too was trembling.

  His anguish matched her own. Nothing in his previous life had caused him so much pain as that bleak refusal to tell her of his love, but he dared not. Her safety must be his sole concern.

  In silence he poured out a glass of brandy. “You are upset!” he murmured. “You had best drink this.”

  She waved it away and stumbled to her feet. Dan reached out a hand to steady her, but she drew back sharply.

  “Please…don’t touch me!” The despairing cry cut him to the heart, but Judith fled before he could reply.

  She wanted to run and to hide herself away, but her limbs were leaden. To climb the staircase felt like wading through a morass which tugged her back with every step, but she reached her room at last.

  As the door opened, Bessie sprang to her feet expectantly. Then she saw Judith’s face.

  “Why, miss, whatever is it? Here, you had best sit down. You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

  Judith did not speak. She had seen a ghost, but it was a ghost of the past which had vanished, never to return. She sat on the edge of her bed, staring into space. Now she could no longer hope, and only the black void of her future lay before her.

  It was all too much for Bessie. She gathered her mistress in her arms, rocking back and forth, and crooning gently to Judith as if she’d been a child.

  “There, don’t take on!” she murmured. “Things always look bad at night. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

  The love and sympathy in her voice was Judith’s undoing. The tears came then, and she wept as if her heart would break.

  “I can’t bear it!” she cried in anguish. “Oh, Bessie, if you only knew…”

  Wisely, Bessie did not question her. There was no need. Something had gone wrong between her young mistress and the man she loved, but there was nothing she could do to put matters right. All she could offer now was comfort.

  “Let’s get you into bed,” she murmured. “Then you shall have a drink of milk and honey to send you off to sleep.” She drew Judith to her feet, and began to undress her. Then she settled the unresisting figure into a chair, and began to brush her hair.

  The long, slow strokes were soothing, and Judith closed her eyes. Then Bessie laid aside the brush and placed a hand on either side of Judith’s temples, moving her fingers in circles at each end of her brow. It was Bessie’s favourite remedy for a pounding headache.

  “Better?” she asked.

  Judith nodded.

  “Well, then, drink your hot milk, and don’t you dare get up for breakfast in the morning. You are living on your nerves, Miss Judith, and it won’t do. Next thing we’ll have you falling sick, and where will you be then?”

  “In bed, I expect.” Judith managed a feeble smile.

  “It’s no joke!” Bessie insisted. “You won’t wish to worry Lady Wentworth. I thought you’d come to cheer her up. You won’t do that if you go about like that there Sarah Siddons…!”

  Judith caught her hand and looked at her with fond affection.

  “Don’t scold!” she begged. “I won’t behave like a tragedy queen.”
r />   Bessie’s expression softened. “I know that, miss. You keep up a brave front. It’s only me as knows…well, I won’t say more.” She blew out the candles, and crept softly from the room, leaving her mistress to stare into the dark until nature won the day and emotional exhaustion sent her off to sleep.

  Below, in the salon, Dan was sitting by the dying embers of the fire. He’d refused the footman’s offer to build it up, or to replace the candles which were now guttering in their sockets.

  The shadows matched his mood. Judith’s unhappiness had shaken him to the very core of his being, and his endurance had reached its limit. Nothing in the world was worth this misery. Beside it, his own stiff-necked pride was meaningless. He cursed himself for a selfish prig. Judith did not care about her fortune, and he knew now that she loved him. Was it right to allow his own principles to stand in the way of their happiness? Suddenly it seemed like nothing more than vanity.

  He reached a decision at last. Tomorrow he would ask Sebastian to release him from his promise. If he and Judith were to marry quickly, she would no longer be in danger.

  He stubbed out the butt of his cigar. He’d picked up the habit of smoking the rolled tobacco leaves whilst in the West Indies, and he preferred it to the more fashionable custom of taking snuff.

  Suddenly, his feelings of depression vanished. He’d been a fool not to think of the obvious solution before. With Judith’s fortune out of reach, the avaricious parson would be forced to look elsewhere.

  As for himself? Let the world accuse him of marrying for money. It wouldn’t even be a nine-day wonder. The ton would see him as no better or no worse than any other bachelor on the look-out for a rich wife. Was not matchmaking the main objective during the coming Season?

  It was his own pride which had caused him to reject the notion. Now it was high time that he considered Judith rather than himself. Neither of them cared for the opinion of Polite Society, and in time his own talent would be recognised.

  Lost in thought, he strolled across the hall. Tomorrow he would ask Sebastian how to procure a special licence. There was still a little worm of doubt in his mind. Could he persuade Judith to accept him? And even if she did, would she agree to this hasty marriage? She might reject all notion of such a hole-and-corner affair, but he dared not wait. Sebastian had warned him what might happen if Judith tried to break off her engagement to Charles Truscott.

  Then he noticed a streak of light beneath the library door. Sebastian must be reading late. He tapped a brief tattoo and entered the room.

  Then he paused. Sebastian wasn’t alone. Seated opposite him was the brawny figure of the Bow Street Runner.

  The man gave Dan a brief nod of recognition and then fell silent.

  “It’s all right, Babb! You may continue to speak freely. I have no secrets from my adopted son.” Sebastian signalled to Dan to take a seat.

  “Well, my lord, as I was saying…our quarry is on the move again. Today he went back to the rookery in St Giles, and spent the afternoon drinking with Margrave in a gin shop.”

  “So they are friends?” Sebastian frowned.

  “It would appear so. I didn’t see the other three today.”

  “Were you able to get close to him…to hear?”

  “No, my lord. Margrave knows me, and he’s as wary as a cat. I thought you wouldn’t wish him to suspect that there was anything in the wind, so I kept out of sight.”

  “But you must have got some impression? Were they quarrelling?”

  “Thick as thieves, they were! Laughing and joking for three hours…Then Truscott left. I followed him to Seven Dials. He’s there for the night, as usual, I believe, so I came to you.”

  “Quite right! You must follow him again tomorrow. Do you need more men?”

  “Not for the moment, sir. I’ll let you know. Now I’ll be off, if I’m to make an early start tomorrow.”

  Dan waited until the door had closed behind him.

  “What’s happening, Sebastian?”

  “I don’t know, but I don’t like it…”

  “Nor do I. We are getting nowhere. It’s all much too slow. Judith will wed that creature before we know it.”

  “My dear boy, I did counsel patience. Let us wait for another day or two…”

  “I can’t!” Dan told him flatly. “I’ve made up my mind. I wonder that I didn’t think of it before. If I wed Judith now…tomorrow…she will be safe.”

  Sebastian shook his head. “It isn’t the answer, Dan. I warned you of the danger. Suppose that something should go wrong?”

  “How could it? We could leave this house in secret, and be wed within the hour. How can I get a special licence?”

  “That may prove to be the least of your problems,” Sebastian said deliberately. “Have you spoken to Judith of this plan?”

  Dan coloured. “No, I haven’t, but, well, I don’t think she’s indifferent to me. I thought so at first, especially as she had agreed to marry Truscott, but now I am certain that her affections have not changed.”

  “You may be right, but how will you explain to her the need for this sudden haste?”

  “I’ll tell her the truth about Truscott.”

  “And will she believe you? You have no proof of your suspicions.”

  “Does it matter?” Dan cried impatiently. “If she loves me she’ll agree to wed me, whenever and however.”

  “I wish you’d reconsider.” Sebastian rose from his chair and began to pace the room. “Are you quite sure that this is what you want? There is still the matter of Judith’s fortune…”

  Dan coloured. “You guessed that it was the stumbling block? We haven’t discussed it, you and I.”

  “There was no need. I know you well, my boy. Can you stomach the notion of being dependent on your wife?” His words were cruel, but Sebastian was desperate to prevent what he considered to be an act of folly.

  Dan’s colour deepened. “That’s hitting below the belt,” he said with dignity. “If you must know, I’m ashamed of my own pride. I’ve let it stand in the way for much too long. Now Judith’s safety must come first.”

  “This is not the way to ensure it. Truscott must be taken beforehand.”

  “I’ve almost given up hope of that. Sebastian, I hate to go against your wishes, but I’ve quite made up my mind.”

  “Very well. Bishop Henderson will provide you with a special licence. I’ll give you his address.” He scribbled a few lines on a card. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must go up to Prudence.”

  “You’ll say nothing to her?” Dan’s face was anxious.

  “Certainly not, and nor will you! The only advice I’ll give you now is to keep this plan to yourself.” Sebastian looked grave as he walked away.

  Chapter Twelve

  Dan was up betimes next day, but obtaining the licence was not as easy as he had at first supposed.

  The bishop was not receiving visitors before morning service, and later he had a number of appointments. The day was well advanced before Dan was admitted to his presence.

  Another hour passed as he was well catechised as to the reasons for his unusual request. The bishop was adamant that he would issue no licence in aid of an elopement.

  “No, my lord bishop. It is nothing like that, I assure you. It is just that…well, the matter is urgent.”

  Bishop Henderson looked at Dan’s troubled face, and sighed. He had long since ceased to marvel at the tangles into which young people fell so readily. At last he reached into a drawer and drew out a form.

  “I may tell you, sir, that were it not for the fact that you are connected to Lord Wentworth I should have no hesitation in refusing you. Does his lordship know of this?”

  “He does, Your Grace. I spoke to him last night. It was he who suggested that I came to you.”

  This succeeded in disposing of any further argument, and when Dan hurried back to Mount Street he had the precious piece of paper safely in his pocket.

  To his chagrin he found that for the rest of the da
y it was impossible to get Judith to himself.

  Perry and Elizabeth were to dine at home that evening, and Prudence, much rested, had elected to join the family party for their meal.

  Dan glanced at Sebastian in despair, but the bland face told him nothing. Sebastian made no enquiries as to the success of his adopted son’s mission, whilst Judith herself seemed determined to avoid all his efforts to speak to her alone.

  When the ladies retired to the salon, Dan was impatient to follow them. The licence was burning a hole in his pocket, and he paid only scant attention to his two companions. He had eaten nothing.

  Perry passed the port, but Dan waved it away.

  “Sickening for something, Dan? Great heavens, man, when you lose your appetite it must be serious. You were always a famous trencherman…” Perry grinned at him.

  Even Sebastian smiled. “It’s too early in the season for raspberry tart. When I first met Dan I suspected that he had hollow legs. He demolished two full tarts on our first day together. Even after that there was no way of filling him.”

  Dan responded to the teasing with a reluctant smile, but he couldn’t hide his impatience to be done with the custom of the gentlemen lingering in the dining-room after their evening meal.

  “You’ll have to watch him, Seb, old chap,” Perry murmured slyly. “Our Dan is becoming quite a ladies’ man.”

  Goaded beyond endurance, Dan was tempted to make a sharp retort, but a look from Sebastian stopped him.

  “Dan is right,” his lordship murmured. “We had best join the ladies. It grows late, and Prudence must not overtax her strength.”

  Dan shot him a look of gratitude, but his optimism was short-lived. When Prudence decided to retire, Judith went with her. He was forced to spend another sleepless night wondering how he might manage to approach her and tell her of his plans.

  On the following day it seemed that everything conspired against him. It was Henry’s birthday, and he had promised the lad a gift of a Pedestrian Curricle. This interesting machine consisted of two wheels with a saddle slung between them. The rider propelled it forward with his feet until he attained sufficient speed. Then he lifted them and coasted for as long as possible.