Mr. Rushford's Honor

by Meg Alexander

  Elspeth giggled. ‘Are you a revolutionary, Mr Newby?’

  ‘Not I! Don’t understand these politician fellows. Always arguing about something, and never getting anything done.’ His voice had risen and his words were clearly audible during a pause in the conversation of his fellow guests.

  ‘You are very hard on us, Newby.’ Anthony was laughing openly. ‘Give us some credit, man. We do try, you know.’

  Thomas flushed to the roots of his hair, and he made haste to apologise to his host. ‘I didn’t mean you, my lord. We know how hard you’ve worked to ease conditions in the north, and for the machinists here.’

  Isham grinned at him. ‘So it doesn’t all escape you, Mr Newby?’

  ‘I talk to people,’ Thomas said vaguely. ‘What I know don’t come from books, my lord.’

  ‘Many more of us might profit by your example,’ Isham replied. ‘Sometimes I feel that we foist our ideas on the people, giving them what we think they need, instead of what they want.’

  ‘My dear Anthony! Unlettered louts? Would you have them decide the conduct of the country?’ Mrs Rushford could contain herself no longer.

  ‘I thought you believed in a lack of education?’ Anthony said mildly. ‘Have we not just been discussing the matter?’

  ‘We were speaking of women,’ his mother-in-law replied in angry tones.

  It was enough to bring India into the conversation with a request to be brought up to date with the London gossip.

  ‘I hope you don’t mind,’ she said to Gina in a low voice. ‘I’ll take care to see that nothing untoward reaches the ears of the girls, though Mr Newby will be well aware of the need for discretion in young company.’

  She was right. Thomas rose to the occasion. In minutes he had them laughing at the Prince Regent’s favourite story.

  ‘Do stop me if you’ve heard it…’ He looked around the table. ‘It’s the one about the running race.’

  ‘Oh, no! Do tell us!’ Elspeth couldn’t contain her curiosity, and was rewarded with a look from Mrs Rushford which indicated that young people should be seen and not heard.

  ‘Very well then. This is the story of the fattest man in Brighton. He wagered heavily on himself to win a foot race against the town’s best runner.’

  ‘That doesn’t sound very sensible…’ Gina was smiling as she awaited the outcome of the story.

  ‘He was cunning, ma’am. He made only two conditions. The first was that he should choose the route, and the second was that he should have a ten-yard start. As you can imagine, there were no objections. In fact, he was offered a fifty-yard start, but he didn’t take it.’

  ‘The spectators must have thought him mad,’ Giles interjected. ‘The odds against him winning must have been enormous.’

  ‘They were, but this crafty fellow made a fortune. When the starting pistol was fired he set off down the narrowest streets in Brighton at a jog-trot. His rival came up from behind, but he couldn’t pass that vast bulk. Our hero filled the narrow lanes from side to side.’

  Even Mrs Rushford was forced to smile. ‘Mr Newby, are you acquainted with the Prince?’ she asked.

  ‘No, ma’am, my father…er…feels that his fortune would be insufficient to support me in those circles.’

  This brought another smile from the assembled company.

  ‘Even so, I’d like to see his palace by the sea,’ Thomas admitted. ‘I’m told It’s like an Oriental seraglio, whatever that is.’

  Being well acquainted with the exact meaning of the word, Isham felt it time to step in.

  ‘The Prince refers to his place as a cottage,’ he said with some amusement. ‘In view of the vast sums lavished on it, it must be the most expensive cottage in the country.’

  ‘Do you like it, Anthony?’ Gina was curious.

  ‘It isn’t to my taste. I have no quarrel with this fascination for the East and Orientalism. Some of the Prince’s treasures are very fine indeed. However, it is difficult to appreciate so many when they fill every room.’

  ‘I hear that he keeps the place at hothouse temperature.’ Mrs Rushford was fascinated by this glimpse into the lifestyle of the heir to the throne.

  ‘He does, ma’am, and that, combined with his taste for busy wallpapers and extravagant decoration of every kind, has had a stifling effect on some of his visitors. A lady of my acquaintance described it as “fairly buzzing”. It made her feel quite faint.’

  ‘So one must suffer a little if one wishes to hear the Prince sing or conduct the orchestra in his music room?’

  ‘Yes, Gina. You must be prepared for some discomfort when you visit Brighton in September.’

  ‘We shan’t mind. I hear he has a pleasant singing voice and reads the poetry of Scott and Southey to perfection. That will please Mair.’

  ‘Your stepdaughter will be in a minority,’ Mrs Rushford retorted sharply. ‘The Regent is one of the most unpopular men in England with his constant spending, and his disloyalty to his friends, to say nothing of certain other matters.’ She glanced significantly at the two young girls. ‘As for that poor wife of his…!’

  Gina was tempted to ask which wife she had in mind. It was common knowledge that the Prince had gone through some sort of wedding ceremony with his mistress, Mrs Fitzherbert, before his official marriage to the Princess Caroline. His reputation as a bigamist did nothing to enhance his popularity in the country.

  ‘Now, Mama, we know that you champion the Princess’s cause, but we must leave the gentlemen to their port…’ India rose from the table, anxious to avoid a diatribe about the Regent’s treatment of his wife. She herself imagined that there must be faults on both sides, but her mother would not hear of it.

  In the salon she rang for tea and called Mair and Elspeth to her. They were favourites with Anthony, and having met them she could understand it.

  Elspeth was short and plump, but Mair, with her gazelle-like frame, was unlikely ever to reach the buxom proportions so much admired by society. In her case it would not matter, India thought to herself. There was character in that youthful face. Perhaps the jaw was a little too square, the brow too wide and the mouth too generous for true beauty, but her Celtic origins were apparent in the high cheekbones, the mass of dark hair, and the vivid blue eyes, set off by a perfect skin.

  Elspeth was undeniably her sister, but she had not yet lost her puppy fat, and in her, at present, one saw only the energetic schoolgirl.

  India began to question them, speaking as she would to an adult. This she’d found was a subtle form of flattery, which never failed to please young people.

  ‘Shall you attend the feˆte at Perceval Hall?’ she asked. ‘My aunt would be happy to see you there. She runs these affairs for charity.’

  ‘We haven’t heard of it,’ Mair told her shyly.

  ‘Oh, of course not. How foolish of me! I had forgot that you had but recently arrived in Abbot Quincey. If you’d like to go I’ll ask her to send you an invitation.’

  ‘Oh, would you, Lady Isham?’ Elspeth gave her an earnest look. ‘Gina will take us, I feel sure of it. What happens at the feˆte? We didn’t have them in Scotland.’

  ‘It’s an excuse for a party,’ India replied. ‘There are all kinds of competitions, such as bobbing for apples, and pinning a tail upon a donkey when one is blindfold. There are races too, with prizes.’

  ‘Horse races?’ Elspeth glanced at her sister.

  ‘Horse races, sack races, three-legged races, and ordinary running races. You may take your pick. There are trials of strength, and a tug-of-war, and even an archery competition.’

  ‘It sounds such fun,’ Elspeth said warmly. ‘Gina will love it.’ She glanced across at her stepmother, who was deep in conversation with Letty and Mrs Rushford. ‘We’ll tell her about it later.’

  ‘Well, don’t forget to mention the refreshments and the country-dancing…’ India looked up as the gentlemen came to join them. A glance sent Isham to rescue Gina from the cross-questioning she was suffering at the hand
s of Mrs Rushford.

  ‘Thank heavens for that!’ Letty sank on to the couch beside her sister. ‘Poor Gina! I don’t know how she kept her temper. Mama has almost asked her for details of her fortune…’

  ‘We’ll have to put a stop to that. What do you say to a game of cards with Mother? It will keep her out of mischief…’ A glance of complicity passed between the sisters. Then India made her suggestion.

  It was greeted with enthusiasm by Mrs Rushford, who was quick to choose Anthony as her partner. She’d learned from bitter experience that it was almost impossible to beat him and she preferred to have him on her side. Besides, a plan was forming in her mind.

  ‘Lady Whitelaw will like to see the Orangery,’ she told Giles in a tone which brooked no argument. ‘India and Letty will make up our table.’

  ‘Lady Whitelaw may prefer to join you,’ Giles retorted stiffly.

  ‘My dear boy, five people cannot play, and India must undertake a restful occupation. Letty, as you know, is mad for cards…’

  This came as news to Letty, who was too startled to reply. She could not look either at India or at Anthony.

  ‘Mrs Rushford is quite right,’ Gina was trying not to laugh. ‘I believe I mentioned to her that I have no head for cards. I should be most interested to see the Orangery and the gardens. I shall need advice on how to improve my grounds, so perhaps the gentlemen will give me the names of certain plants, and the girls and I will try to remember them.’

  Anthony glanced at his wife, who managed to preserve her countenance only with the greatest difficulty. Her mother’s plan had been foiled in the most charming way possible. Mrs Rushford had not envisaged the entire party setting forth into the garden.

  Giles was furious with her. Her scheming was all too obvious and it filled him with embarrassment. For two pins he would have walked away, but good manners forced him to lead the party through the Orangery and on to the terrace.

  He’d planned to take the girls up to the Folly on the hill, but Thomas was ahead of him. Already a favourite with Mair and Elspeth, that gentleman had been challenged to a race and all three were already disappearing into the distance.

  In silence he paced beside Gina, but he couldn’t look at her.

  ‘Pray go ahead if you wish to join the others,’ Gina told him cheerfully. ‘I’m afraid that these flimsy evening slippers are not meant for walking.’

  ‘No! I do not wish to join the others.’ Suddenly Giles longed to tear aside that polished social veneer. ‘Must we pretend that we are strangers?’

  Gina gave him a sideways look. ‘Of course not! Why should you think that? We knew each other as children, and Anthony knows that we met in Italy. Oh, I see! You feel that you should have mentioned to your family that we’d met since my return to Abbot Quincey? That is not so very dreadful. They did not seem to take it amiss…’

  ‘No, I was not referring to that and well you know it.’ Giles stopped suddenly and swung round to face her. ‘Look at me!’ he demanded. ‘I can’t pretend that we are casual acquaintances…can you?’

  ‘Most certainly I can,’ she replied in level tones. ‘I’d advise you to do the same.’

  Her companion groaned. ‘I don’t believe that you have forgotten what we once were to each other.’

  ‘I’ve not forgotten.’ With an effort Gina kept her voice steady. ‘But it was long ago. I was younger than Mair is now. At that age one has little experience of the world, and a childish folly is soon forgotten.’

  Giles looked as if she had struck him. Until today he’d been resolved that he would never remind her of their love, but his good resolutions had deserted him.

  Quickly, he pulled himself together. ‘Even so,’ he said. ‘I feel I owe you an explanation…’

  Gina lifted a dismissive hand. ‘You owe me nothing…’

  ‘No, please hear me out. I didn’t know where to find you. Why didn’t you answer my letter?’

  ‘What letter?’ she demanded. ‘I received no letter.’

  Giles stared at her in stupefaction. ‘I wrote to you before I sailed…before you came back to the villa. It was to tell you why I’d had to leave so quickly.’

  ‘There was nothing,’ she told him.

  ‘Damn the fellow! I paid him well to carry the message.’ Giles turned his face away. ‘What you must of thought of me?’

  ‘It was difficult to understand,’ she admitted. ‘I hadn’t supposed you to be a man who would flee at the first sign of danger, but conditions in Naples were chaotic. Before I knew it we were en route to the West Indies.’

  ‘You could have written to me at the Grange,’ he said miserably.

  ‘I suppose so, but we were always on the move. It wasn’t easy to find a ship prepared to carry mail.’ She wouldn’t tell him that she’d been too hurt and also too proud to beg him to come back to her.

  ‘I tried to find you, you know. I made enquiries at the bakery until your mother became suspicious. I said that Sir Alastair was a friend of mine and I wondered what had happened to him, but I don’t think she believed me.’

  ‘She wouldn’t have been able to help you. I wrote to my parents when I could, but if they replied their letters never reached me.’

  ‘Oh, Gina, you must have been so lonely.’

  ‘Sometimes, perhaps, but I had the girls, and Sir Alastair and his wife were always good to me.’ Gina managed an engaging smile. ‘It is difficult to be sad, you know, when one is embroiled in so much action. Distant countries are always full of interest, but they aren’t the safest places in the world.’

  ‘I heard something of your exploits from Anthony.’

  ‘Exaggerated, I fear, though I can fire a pistol with some degree of accuracy. Giles, have we not said enough about my affairs? What of you? How do you go on?’

  He had been dreading the question, unwilling to admit even to Gina that the fortunes of his family had been saved only by Anthony’s marriage to India. The thought still galled him. True, India was happy, but it might so easily have been different. She’d accepted Lord Isham hating him for the part she believed he’d played in the death of her father and the loss of all their property. Only in these last few months had that hatred turned to love.

  She’d been prepared to sacrifice herself for his sake, and that of his mother and sister. He could not forget it. Feelings of frustration threatened to overwhelm him. It should have been he who saved the family, and he’d been unable to do so.

  It hadn’t been for want of trying. Ever since he’d been summoned back from Italy all those years ago he’d been forced to shoulder burdens apparently beyond the capabilities of a young man.

  And he’d almost succeeded in turning the Rushford Estate into a paying proposition. He’d worked day and night to bring it round. Their lands were rich and fertile and he’d immersed himself in study of all the latest farming methods, new thinking on the rotation of crops, new strains of various seeds, and all the latest breeds of cattle.

  He’d yearned to have the means to buy those implements which would have saved on time and labour, but they were beyond him. Undaunted, he’d been forced to improvise for himself, ignoring the traditional resistance to change so prevalent among all agricultural labourers.

  But the drain on his resources had been impossible to halt. Money set aside for improvements had gone to pay the debts of his lovable but feckless father. The end had come last year when, in a night of madness, Gareth Rushford had gambled away the last of his inheritance, losing it to Anthony Isham, and leaving his family destitute.

  The shock had been severe. Forced to leave her home, his mother had moved into a small cottage owned by her brother-in-law, Sir James Perceval, taking her daughters with her.

  Giles himself had travelled the country looking for employment. It had been in vain. Only now, as India’s estate manager, could he see some glimmer of hope for the future. He was realistic enough to know that he had years of struggle ahead of him. Far better to forget his one and only love.

&nb
sp; He turned away as they caught up with the others and offered to take them to see a badger sett. Gina declined on the grounds that her slippers were quite soaked through in the long grass. She turned back towards the house, with Thomas Newby as her escort.

  ‘Ma’am, we have been thoughtless.’ Gallantly, he offered her his arm. ‘I must hope that you will not take a chill.’

  ‘Highly unlikely, Mr Newby. It pains me to admit it, but I enjoy the best of health. Such a trial when it is so much more interesting to be always swooning, or in a state of delicate health.’

  ‘Ma’am, you are making game of me.’ Thomas grinned at her. ‘You would not care to be in such case, I believe.’

  ‘No, I should not.’ Companionably Gina tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. ‘There is so much enjoyment in this world. One cannot see it from a sofa.’

  ‘Shall you settle in Abbot Quincey, ma’am?’ Thomas felt as though he’d known her all his life.

  ‘I don’t know yet, Mr Newby. I must consider the girls. Fortunately we are not so far from London here in Abbot Quincey. I may open the London house this year, or possibly in the spring.’

  ‘You speak of the girls. What of yourself?’ As he spoke he wondered if she would regard the question as too personal, but she gave him a friendly smile.

  ‘I never make arrangements too far ahead. That way I am not disturbed if I have to change my plans…’

  ‘Very wise. Oh, Lord!’ Thomas had caught sight of a horseman in the distance. ‘I hope I won’t have to change mine. Here comes Stubbins, if I’m not mistaken…’

  ‘Stubbins?’

  ‘My valet, ma’am, or groom, or whatever you like to name him. In reality, he is a watchdog. My father sets him on me…’

  ‘Leave him to me!’ Gina’s eyes were dancing. She was prepared to enjoy the coming confrontation.

  As the man drew rein beside them she moved even closer to her companion.

  ‘Now how did you find me, Stubbins?’ Thomas sounded exasperated.

  ‘’T’wern’t difficult, Mr Thomas. You left a trail a mile wide.’