Regency Admirer/The Merry Gentleman/The Gentleman's Demand

by Meg Alexander

  “Then let us be thankful that you are nothing more than a spoilt child.”

  He thought she would explode with rage. Her hand closed about a valuable vase.

  “No, don’t throw it!” he advised. “As a lover of beautiful things, you will not care to smash it.”

  It was only with a supreme effort that Elizabeth regained her self-control. She sat down suddenly and began to drum her fingers on a nearby table.

  “What a charming guest you are! One can only be thankful that you spend your life at sea, shouting your insults to the wind. There, they will have no effect.”

  Perry was strongly tempted to box her ears. He opened his mouth to reply and then fell silent as his host returned.

  Mr Grantham beamed upon his guests. “Well, Puss, we must thank our friends for a most delightful evening, don’t you agree? We entertain so little,” he explained. “Elizabeth, poor darling, knows few young people. We do not go about as much as she would like. This has been a new experience for her.”

  Perry said all that was polite, but he was in no doubt that it was one which Elizabeth would not care to repeat. To his surprise, Mr Grantham appeared to notice nothing amiss.

  Chris was not so easily deceived, but it was not until he and Perry were walking back towards the docks that he voiced his suspicions.

  “Another quarrel, old chap?”

  “What else?” Perry’s tone was savage. “That girl is a harridan!”

  “No, no! That’s coming it too strong. You rub her the wrong way, that’s all. It ain’t like you, Perry. What happened to our handsome sailor who has the ladies falling at his feet?”

  Perry eyed him darkly. “Watch it!” he advised. “A facer won’t improve your looks.”

  “Have mercy!” Chris pretended to quake with fright. “Would you hit a man who is half your size?”

  Perry’s face cleared. “Don’t be such an ass!” he chuckled. “I ain’t in the best of humours, I’ll admit, but the beautiful Miss Grantham tries my patience.”

  “At least you ain’t indifferent to her. It must be the first sign of love—” He dodged as Perry aimed a blow at him. “What did she do this time?”

  “It was her damned impertinence.” Perry could contain himself no longer. “Insults, if you please, from a chit just out of the schoolroom.”

  “But why?” Chris persisted. “The evening seemed to go so well.”

  “It did, until you insisted on examining those pictures. Why did you leave me alone with her?”

  “Just giving you a chance, old thing. Besides, the old man was determined on it. It was his suggestion.” Chris began to laugh. “I think he sees you as a prospective son-in-law.”

  “Rubbish! He was doing the polite.”

  “No, I see it all now. You are destined for the fair Elizabeth. Such a pity that I didn’t stake my claim before you!”

  “You are welcome to her. It ain’t too late. You may woo her with my compliments, and I wish you joy of the lady. I’d as soon shackle myself to the Witch of Endor.”

  “No need to trouble yourself,” Chris announced. “We’ll be gone before the week is out. I doubt if we’ll see any member of that family again.”

  This prophecy was not destined to be fulfilled, though Chris was right in his supposition that the Artemis was almost ready to sail. Two days before their departure, Perry received a letter from Mr Grantham. He opened it and read it with a groan.

  “What is it?” Chris demanded. “A letter from your lady-love? She has forgiven you?”

  Perry handed over the letter. Its contents made Chris whistle in surprise.

  “He can’t be hoping still that you’ll persuade the captain to change his mind?”

  “I don’t know,” Perry said heavily. “I thought I’d convinced him that it was impossible.”

  “Shall you go?”

  “I suppose I must. He doesn’t suggest a meeting at his home, thank God, but at the customs-house.”

  “He may have a present for you...wine, perhaps...or brandy?”

  “Possibly. I hope he won’t go on about his daughter’s safety. She could take on the revolutionary armies on her own.”

  “Bear up, old chap! It may not be as bad as you suppose.”

  It was worse. Though Mr Grantham greeted Perry with his usual warmth, he seemed to find some difficulty in broaching the subject uppermost in his mind.

  Behind the smile, Perry saw that his eyes were sick with fear. His hands, spotted with the brown flecks of age, were shaking.

  “My dear sir, what is it? Have you had bad news? Your wife is not worse, I hope?”

  Mr Grantham shook his head. “I cannot shake off the memory of the massacre of Toulon. Mr Wentworth, Elizabeth is the child of my heart. She must be saved.”

  “But sir, I have explained...we cannot take her with us.” Moved by his companion’s anguish, Perry’s voice was gentle.

  “Your captain will change his mind, I think, when he knows that there is a precedent. The British fleet has rescued many thousands—”

  “Mr Grantham, under Admiral Hood, the fleet is at full strength. We are but a single ship, under special orders to make all haste to England. We must be a likely target for attack. The captain will not have women aboard, especially a young girl, unprotected as she must be, and among men who are not noted for their...er...restraint.”

  Mr Grantham was silent for some moments. When he spoke again, it was clear that he was labouring under the stress of strong emotion.

  “Will you sit down?” he asked in a low voice. “I have thought of a solution.”

  “Sir?”

  “I will offer you my daughter’s hand in marriage.”

  “What!” The colour drained from Perry’s cheeks. “Forgive me! I think I cannot have understood you.”

  “I am asking that you take Elizabeth to wife. That is, unless you have some previous attachment...?”

  The temptation to lie to him was overwhelming, but Perry could not do it.

  “It is not that,” he said slowly. “Sir, you cannot have considered. You do not know me. Would you entrust your daughter to my care on the strength of a few meetings?”

  “My dear boy, I have not lived for more than seventy years without becoming a judge of character. Besides, I knew your mother slightly many years ago, before she married Brandon. I have made enquiries, Mr Wentworth. I am satisfied that Elizabeth will be safe with you.”

  Chapter Three

  Perry thought he must be dreaming. The old man’s suggestion was too fantastic to be within the bounds of reality. That blow to the head must have addled his wits. He tried to hide his dismay.

  “Have you spoken to your daughter on this subject, Mr Grantham?”

  “No, I have not. She is too young to make such decisions for herself. She does not understand my worries.”

  “Then she is certain to oppose this plan. Sir, there must be many worthy men in Genoa...”

  “How would that help me? I want to send Elizabeth to England.” The old man looked at Perry’s stricken face. “What is your objection, Mr Wentworth? You have seen my girl. You need not fear her breeding, and she is not ill favoured...”

  “She is beautiful,” Perry murmured. “But the idea is preposterous.”

  “But why? Forgive me. Perhaps I should not mention it but, as my only child, Elizabeth is my heir. Her dowry will be large...”

  Perry flushed. “That does not weigh with me,” he said with dignity.

  “Then I do not understand.”

  “Well, sir, if you will have the truth of it, I believe your daughter has taken me in dislike.” It was not the most tactful of replies, but Perry was growing desperate.

  To his astonishment, Mr Grantham laughed. “Have you been teasing her, my boy?”

  Perry was silent. Without betraying Elizabeth’s meeting with the Count, he could not explain.

  “Won’t you make allowances for her youth? I know she can be hasty, but at heart she is the best of girls.”

&nb
sp; “But that’s just it—” Perry was clutching at straws “—she is too young to be married.”

  “Not so, my dear young man. And there is a precedent. Your Captain Fremantle was married aboard ship to Miss Betsy Wynne. She was the same age as Elizabeth.”

  “But sir, they loved each other—”

  “And you think you could not grow to love my child? That is difficult for a father to understand. You disappoint me, Mr Wentworth.”

  “I am sorry to have to do so, but it cannot be.” Perry could imagine Captain Robsart’s reaction if he were asked to conduct such a ceremony. “Believe me, I should like to help you, but Miss Grantham and I should not suit.”

  The old man eyed him sadly for some moments. Then, apparently resigned to defeat, he picked up his cloak and hat. “I see that there is nothing more to be said. You must excuse me for troubling you once more.”

  “I’m sorry, sir. I appreciate your trust in me.”

  Mr Grantham nodded. Then he held out his hand.

  “I wish you fair winds, and a safe journey back to England.”

  With that he limped away, leaving Perry a prey to a mass of conflicting emotions. The strongest of these was an overwhelming feeling of relief.

  It had been an uncomfortable interview, but thank heavens he had not retreated. The old man had allowed his fears to cloud his judgement. His plan could only have been born of desperation.

  Later that evening he said as much to Chris.

  “What did I tell you?” After an initial whistle of astonishment, Chris began to chuckle. “I knew the old man had his eye on you. I can’t believe that you turned him down, when you had the heiress in your pocket. You must be touched in the upper storey. Never suspected you of being such a slow-top, old chap.”

  “I’m not the one who is touched in the upper storey. That blow to the head must have done more damage than we thought. To offer his daughter to a stranger? It is incredible!”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Chris murmured slyly. “You ain’t a bad catch, old thing...aside from being a pretty face, I mean.”

  “Determined to lose your front teeth, are you?” Perry advanced upon his friend.

  Still laughing, Chris dodged behind a table, beyond the reach of those outstretched arms.

  “Think about it,” he pleaded. “Didn’t old Grantham say he knew your mother?”

  “What has that to say to anything?”

  “Well, he don’t strike me as a fool. He must have made enquiries about you. I can’t think what’s stopping you from taking the lady to your bosom.”

  Perry glared at him. “For one thing I detest her, and for another, I’ll choose my own wife, thank you.”

  Chris shook his head. “When will you get another chance like this? The girl has everything to recommend her....youth...beauty...and a fortune with it.”

  “Everything, in fact, but a pleasant disposition.”

  “Damme, Perry, are you looking for some little mouse who’ll hang about your neck, agreeing with your every word?”

  “I’m not looking for anyone, and I won’t be hustled into marriage to suit Mr Grantham.” Suddenly, his face cleared. “Don’t know why I’m going on,” he said more cheerfully. “The girl herself would never have agreed.”

  Chris emerged from behind the table. “It’s a pity, all the same. Tell you what! Suppose I try my luck?”

  “This is no joking matter,” Perry said severely.

  “I suppose not. In any case, I ain’t sure that I want a wife just yet.” He couldn’t resist a last gibe. “At your age, though, it’s time you were giving it some thought?”

  “I’m not too old to deal with you, my lad. Ain’t it time you went on watch?”

  For the next two days they were kept fully occupied with preparations for their departure. Stores were late in arriving, fresh provisions were in short supply, and in the final hours before they sailed Perry was sent ashore with a small party to search for a couple of deserters. A fruitless search of several taverns didn’t improve his mood.

  “Damn their eyes!” he muttered savagely. “We’ll have to leave them. We can’t miss the tide...”

  The prospect of explaining to Captain Robsart that he would be forced to sail short-handed wasn’t pleasant, and it was with some relief that he spied the two delinquents in a dockside haunt. Both men were the worse for drink, and incapable of walking to the ship unaided. He motioned to their shipmates to support them, and led the party back to the Artemis.

  Ordering his captives to be taken to the brig, Perry made his way on deck and reported to the captain.

  Behind his back, Captain Robsart was known as “Hedgehog’. In truth, he bore a strong resemblance to that small and prickly creature. Beneath a head of stiff, grey bristles a pair of fierce eyes glared out at his first lieutenant. He gave a grunt, which might, or might not, have been one of approval. Then he turned away to deal with the task of seeing his vessel safely out of harbour. It was not until they had cleared the breakwater that he went below.

  With their course set for Gibraltar, Perry remained on deck to take the watch. As the city of Genoa faded into the distance, he could only feel relieved. The strange events of the past few days could now be forgotten. He lifted his face to the breeze. How good it was to feel the rolling deck beneath his feet once more. He thought with pity of those who had never been to sea. They would never know his present sense of freedom.

  Then he felt a pang of conscience. Was Mr Grantham watching their departure? The old man would be in despair, feeling that his last hope had gone.

  Yet surely his fears were groundless? In time he would give his daughter’s hand to one more worthy to receive it. Even so, he wondered what would be their fate.

  Lost in thought, he did not notice the passing of the hours, but at last he was relieved. As he went below he found Chris waiting for him.

  “You look as if you could do with a drink, old chap. Ain’t you going to allow me to sample some of the wine you bought in Genoa?”

  “As long as you remember that I’d like to reach England with at least a cask or two...”

  “I’ll stock you up at Gibraltar. Spanish brandy ain’t too bad, and they run it across the border.”

  With this assurance, he followed Perry into the latter’s cabin. Then he paused in astonishment.

  “I know we may be attacked, old thing, but did you really feel obliged to buy a coffin?”

  Perry was equally startled by the sight of a narrow basketwork container, fully six feet in length, which took up most of what little space there was.

  “What’s this? It ain’t mine.” Perry strode to the door and shouted for the cabin boy.

  “Bosun brought it aboard, sir.”

  “Then you’d best send him to me, and be quick about it. Damn it! There ain’t room to swing a cat in here. The man must have lost his wits.”

  He said as much to the bosun. “What’s this, Caxton? Whoever owns it, it should have been stowed in the hold.”

  “It came from a Mr Grantham, sir. He was most insistent that it was delivered to your cabin.” Caxton found it unnecessary to mention the sum of money which had accompanied this request.

  Perry regarded him with a kindling eye. “You did not feel it necessary to consult me?”

  “You were busy, sir. Besides, the crate is mighty heavy. It took two of the men to fetch it from the deck.”

  “He must have sent you one of his statues,” Chris announced. “You lucky dog!”

  Perry shook his head as he looked at the basketwork container. “He’d have packed a statue in a wooden crate.” A thought too terrible to contemplate sprang unbidden to his mind. He brushed it aside. The idea was unthinkable. “Possibly it is fruit,” he murmured. “Very well, Caxton, you may go. I’ll take a look at it. The men may remove it later.”

  As the bosun left them, Perry looked across at Chris.

  “Ain’t you going to open it?” his friend enquired. “I’ll lay you odds that it ain’t fruit. Why would he s
end you oranges and lemons? It must be books... The damp in the hold would ruin them.”

  Perry did not answer him. He was staring at the box, and a sense of dread possessed him.

  “Come on!” Chris was impatient to solve the mystery. “Why are you so reluctant? It ain’t likely to be filled with poisonous snakes, even if you did refuse to wed his daughter.”

  Slowly, Perry fumbled with the leather straps. As they fell away he laid his hand upon the lid, but he could not bring himself to lift it.

  Laughing, Chris pushed him aside. Then, as the lid fell back, both men stood as if turned to stone.

  Chris was the first to find his voice. “Good God!” he whispered. “If it ain’t the siren herself!”

  It was true. Elizabeth lay curled in the heavily padded interior, swaddled tightly in a fine silk shawl. A light veil covered her face, which was further protected by a cobwebby mesh secured above her. She appeared to be asleep.

  The shock robbed Perry of all power of speech. He staggered to a chair, put his head in his hands, and groaned.

  “What will you do?” Chris laid a hand upon his shoulder. “We can’t turn back.”

  “I don’t know. My God! What has possessed the man? How could he do this to me?”

  “He must have been desperate.” Chris had lost his usual ebullience. “We had best tell the captain. Perhaps he’ll put her ashore...”

  “Alone, and on the coast of France? Of course he won’t. Her father would rely on that. Damn the man! I wish I’d never set eyes on him...or his daughter!”

  “Too late to think of that. Perry, it ain’t your fault that she’s aboard. The captain must see that.”

  “He won’t,” Perry told him in despair. “He’ll think I disobeyed his orders. I’ll probably be court-martialled and strung up from the yardarm...”

  There was a pause as both young men considered this gloomy prospect. Then Chris looked at his friend with sparkling eyes.

  “We could hide her,” he suggested. “Captain Robsart need not know.”

  “Down here, and for weeks? Have you run mad?”

  “I mean until we reach Gibraltar. There, we might be able to smuggle her ashore—”