Lydia looked displeased. Alethea smiled and shook her head, but had no time to say anything in reply before the visitors entered the room. It was not long before Caroline saw her mistake and realised that it was her sister whom Allerton had come to see. Today he was taking no pains to disguise the admiration which he had long felt for Lydia, but which he had previously tried to keep hidden.
Lydia herself, outwardly all smiles and charm, felt some inner qualms. Perhaps she had been rather too encouraging to Vivyan yesterday, in her determination to give Devenish a set-down. It would be a pity if he had gathered a false impression of her interest in him. She had no wish to bring on a declaration in that quarter; the inevitable refusal might make relations between the two families a trifle awkward. Why could not the stupid fellow understand that she had only been indulging in one of her light-hearted flirtations? How difficult men were, to be sure, always ready to believe that a girl was only waiting to throw herself at their heads! It was so much simpler with someone like Devenish, who understood the game.
Allerton was pressing her now to come driving with him in the Park that afternoon, and for once she was not at all sure how to answer. She glanced at her mother for assistance, but Mrs Manbury saw no harm in the company of a young man who had always been regarded almost in the light of a relative. Fortunately, Lydia was saved from an immediate reply by the arrival of yet another visitor. This time it was Mr Paul Tracy.
‘Um — er — I beg your pardon, Mrs Manbury,’ he stammered, hesitating as he saw other visitors present. ‘I would not — um — have intruded upon you had I realised — er — that is to say — I believed that possibly at this hour, I might — um, er — perhaps find you —’
‘Not at all, sir,’ said Mrs Manbury, deciding that she could not possibly wait for the conclusion of this speech. ‘We are almost a family party here, for these are some very intimate friends whom we have known for ever. Permit me to make them known to you.’
Paul Tracy acknowledged the introductions in his awkward, apologetic way, still looking ill at ease. Mrs Manbury steered him to a seat next to Alethea, wisely leaving it to her niece to soothe his ruffled sensibilities. This Alethea managed by talking at first on that stock British subject, the weather. Gradually he relaxed sufficiently to ask her about the book he had lent her.
‘Oh, I’ve finished it,’ she replied, ‘but I’ve laid it by for a few days so that I can give it a second reading. One misses so much the first time, don’t you agree?’
He did, and went on to compare The Village with Goldsmith’s poem on a similar subject and with Gray’s Elegy in a Country Churchyard.
‘Simplicity — er — and truth are Crabbe’s driving forces,’ stated Mr Tracy, with energy. ‘He employs — um — no tricks to engage our senses as these others do — um — er — he idealises nothing.’
‘So much I have noticed,’ agreed Alethea, ‘But I must confess that at times I found myself wishing that he didn’t view everything in quite such a dismal way. I fear you’ll never disenchant me with Gray, Mr Tracy. I still admire the Elegy in spite of having read Crabbe’s work — though possibly such an admission will make you think me sadly lacking in taste.’
‘By — by no means, ma’am,’ stuttered Mr Tracy with emphasis. ‘I do not mean to say — um — that there are not some memorable lines in the Elegy, or that Gray is unworthy — er — of serious consideration as a poet. No, far be it from me — um — As for yourself, Miss Newnham,’ here he seemed to experience some difficulty in continuing at all — ‘um — er — no one could doubt — er — that is to say — your taste must seem superior —’
Lydia, who was once again being pressed by Vivyan to go out with him that afternoon, here broke in upon their conversation. ‘What in the world can you and Mr Tracy be discussing so very earnestly, Alethea?’ she demanded, laughing.
‘Only a book which Mr Tracy was good enough to lend me.’
‘Oh, a book! People are for ever lending you books, it seems — or giving them to you,’ said Lydia, with a hint of spitefulness.
‘Why, who has given you a book, Alethea?’ asked her Aunt.
‘Well, it was just that Sir James Devenish said I might keep the guide book we were making use of yesterday, that is all,’ replied Alethea, carelessly.
‘You forgot to say, though, that it was his own copy,’ Lydia reminded her.
‘Devenish?’ repeated Vivyan, incredulously. ‘Devenish possessed a guide book to London? Well, if that don’t beat all!’
‘I’m sure I don’t see why he should not,’ said Mrs Manbury. ‘Such things have their uses, particularly if one should be entertaining friends from the country or from foreign shores.’
‘Very true, ma’am — but Devenish! I must say I don’t see him in the guise of mentor and guide!’
‘Ah, well, possibly you don’t know him as well as you think, Vivyan,’ replied Mrs Manbury. ‘For my part, I’ve long since ceased to be surprised at anything people may say or do. One can never tell, even with one’s own family, much less with one’s acquaintance.’
Caroline laughed. ‘You may have some justification for that point of view, Mama, for I’m sure I never know myself for five minutes together how I intend to act!’ She glanced at the ormolu clock on the mantelshelf. ‘Heavens, I must fly! I’ve shopping to do and an appointment for this afternoon that cannot be broken. Lydia, don’t forget that we’ve fixed on Monday for our visit to the play. Fothergill has bespoken a box, and we shall expect you round to dine with us first.’
‘I did ask you, Mr Tracy, if you would care to join us when we decided to visit the theatre,’ said Mrs Manbury, turning towards him. ‘I do trust that you may chance to be free on Monday evening? I am sorry that it should be such short notice.’
He managed to stammer out an acceptance, and Caroline hospitably included him in the invitation to dinner.
‘I haven’t yet seen the Incomparable Sarah myself,’ put in Vivyan, reflectively. ‘Everyone tells me I should —’
‘Oh, yes, Viv, there’s no doubt of it at all!’ enthused Felicia. ‘Clarry was so overcome when we last went to see The Fatal Marriage that she cried all the way home! And I honestly don’t think there was a dry eye in the whole audience at the end of the play — Mrs Siddons was magnificent — so moving, and such dignity in her afflictions!’
‘Well, I don’t promise to emulate Clarry,’ said her brother, laughing. ‘But all the same, the Siddons is a great actress, by all accounts, and the season will soon be over. I don’t suppose —’ he paused, suggestively.
‘Why, of course,’ Caroline took him up at once. ‘We shall have room, and George would like you to join us. We are taking the girls, you know, as Mama doesn’t wish to go herself. Will you dine with us first, along with the others? Do — it will make a pleasant-sized party, and even numbers, too.’
Caroline’s departure was the signal for the others to leave, although Vivyan Allerton did not do so until he had secured Lydia’s promise to drive with him that afternoon. At first she tried to excuse herself on the grounds that she did not like to leave Alethea at home, but Alethea soon disposed of this by saying that she would be glad of an opportunity to write some letters.
‘You might have supported me,’ Lydia grumbled, when the visitors had gone. ‘You must know that I don’t choose to be private with Vivyan.’
‘No, how should I?’ demanded Alethea. ‘Only yesterday, you seemed set on that very thing!’
‘You know perfectly well why that was. I told you I meant to give Devenish a set-down.’
‘Forgive me, Lydia, but I refuse to be made a party to your intrigues.’
‘Oh, you’re such a prude!’ snapped Lydia, the lovely face drawn into a disfiguring scowl. ‘I only hope you make a match of it with that stupid oaf of a poet, for you’ll be very well suited, the pair of you!’
‘I’m not looking to make a match of it with anyone,’ retorted Alethea.
‘Then you’re stupid, as well, for what else can
one do but marry? Except become an old maid,’ she added, with a scornful laugh, ‘and that wouldn’t suit me, though I can quite see that it might be the very thing for you.’
‘Well, perhaps it might. I really don’t know. But what I do know is that I find the concentration of all one’s thoughts, aspirations and energies on the subject of matrimony so tedious that it cannot be borne! For pity’s sake,’ went on Alethea, warmly, ‘are there not other subjects capable of inspiring interest, other channels for one’s thoughts? And after so much time and scheming being devoted to achieving a marriage what could it ever be but a miserable anti-climax? What is there left? Your own sister —’ She broke off, then continued apologetically — ‘but perhaps I’ve no right to speak of that. Although we are cousins, we do not yet know each other very well.’
‘Oh, Caroline,’ said Lydia, with a shrug. ‘Yes, you may discuss her with me, if you wish. It doesn’t offend me in the slightest.’
‘Well, you can’t claim that she is very happy; and yet, by my Aunt’s account, a deal of scheming went into her marriage.’
‘I think she’s well enough suited,’ replied Lydia, indifferently. ‘Fothergill is dull, of course, but then most husbands are. She has a comfortable and elegant establishment, and wants for nothing.’
‘Except for the companionship of a partner whom she can both love and respect,’ said Alethea, with emphasis.
‘Oh, fie! You ask too much. Most marriages are matters of convenience — one is unusually fortunate if love enters into the bargain.’
‘If that is so, then I am less than ever inclined towards “making a match of it”, as you say — at least, on your terms.’
Lydia stared, then burst out laughing. ‘Dear sakes, never say that you’re of a romantic turn of mind! You with your bookishness and forthright views — no, that’s too much! My poor cousin, for all you’re a deal cleverer than I am, it seems you’ve much to learn about the ways of the world.’
‘Doubtless,’ said Alethea, and went out of the room.
Later, when Vivyan Allerton had taken Lydia out for a drive and Mrs Manbury was resting in her room, Alethea sat down to write a letter home. She gave a lively account of all that had been happening during the past few days, and then went on in a more serious vein.
I must say, Mama, that so far my cousin and I do not get on too well. Perhaps it is my fault. She is the complete town lady, while I am something of a country mouse. But our standards are so different, and I think must remain so, however much “town polish” I may manage to acquire, Harry would have it that you also sent me to London to catch a husband (I am using his phrase, so do not chide me!) and my cousin and Aunt seem to be of the same opinion.
I know it is all nonsense and you never could have had any such motive; but at times I cannot help feeling vexed with Lydia and my Aunt for persisting in the notion. A word from you might save me some embarrassment in this respect.
However, do not think, dearest Mama, that I am not enjoying myself. I live in a constant whirl of pleasure and meet such a great variety of people that every day my experience is extended and my mind stimulated. Papa would remind me, I know, that this can never be an entirely comfortable process, although it does one good. I only hope I am not too much changed when next you see me! Give my fond love to Papa and the boys, and do let me know when Sukey has her kittens.
Ever your affectionate daughter,
Alethea.
Chapter X
After all the objections that Lydia had raised to driving out with Allerton, Alethea was surprised to find her engaged for a similar expedition on the following day. Mrs Manbury ventured to comment on this seeming change of attitude, but Lydia replied with an easy — ‘Oh, I was quite mistaken, Mama! I see now that I can manage Vivyan with the greatest ease in the world.’
‘And I dare say she may,’ remarked Alethea’s Aunt, after Allerton had called and borne Lydia away. ‘Most of the men are wild for her, you know, because I must admit — although she’s my own, and perhaps I shouldn’t — that she’s an uncommonly attractive girl. But she has her head screwed on the right way, and always knows to a nicety how to avoid an unwanted declaration. Not that there could be the least objection to Vivyan, of course, in the ordinary way. He has an independent fortune besides what will come to him on his father’s death; and as to birth, that is impeccable. But any female with Lydia’s looks can aspire to a truly brilliant match; and, after all, a girl must do the best she can for herself, don’t you agree?’
‘Oh, certainly,’ said Alethea, drily. ‘The only point on which I fear we may differ, Aunt, is just what precisely is the best.’
Mrs Manbury stared. ‘Really, you are a very singular girl, Alethea! You must know well enough what I mean. I don’t mind telling you in confidence that we have great hopes of the Duke of Bedwyn, so you will readily see that Lydia’s other suitors cannot be encouraged until we know just how matters stand in that quarter. At present he is away at his Lincolnshire estate, but he should be returning before long, and then we shall see.’
‘Does Lydia favour this gentleman?’
‘But naturally, my dear. Who would not favour a Duke?’ replied Mrs Manbury, surprised.
‘I was thinking of the man rather than the title. What manner of man is he?’ persisted Alethea. ‘Is he as personable as, say, Mr Allerton or Sir James Devenish?’
‘Oh, well, no, for he is a good deal older than either. He has been twice married before, and has daughters by both marriages, but no son. Naturally, he wants an heir; and if he can take one of the Town’s reigning belles as a third wife, I believe he, too, will think he has made a good bargain.’
A good bargain! So marriage was simply a matter of buying and selling, thought Alethea contemptuously. But even the short time she had spent in her Aunt’s household had taught her the futility of voicing the thought. She glanced out of the window. It would be so much pleasanter out of doors in this sunny weather. At home, she would have been out in the garden, or else walking in one of the leafy lanes near the village. Here in London, however, a young lady could not wander through the streets unattended. She sighed as she picked up a book and settled down to read.
Mrs Manbury had just decided to go up to her room for a rest when a visitor was announced. She clicked her tongue in annoyance as she scanned the card presented by her footman, but nevertheless she told the man to admit the caller.
‘So vexing — it’s Devenish of all people, and Lydia out with Vivyan Allerton! Not that I don’t think it a good thing for her association with Devenish to come to an end. Well, I shall soon get rid of him, you’ll see.’
Beau Devenish, elegant as usual, was with them before Alethea could make any answer to this. It was soon made clear, however, that he had not come in search of Lydia. He was well aware that she was out driving with Allerton, as he had met them in the Park and stayed to chat with them for a while. In the course of their conversation, he said, he had learned that Miss Newnham was spending the afternoon quietly at home with her Aunt.
‘And so, ma’am,’ he concluded, turning his most persuasive smile upon Mrs Manbury, ‘it occurred to me that possibly your niece might also prefer to be out of doors in this quite delightful weather. If so, I should be happy — with your approval — to take Miss Newnham for a short drive.’
Mrs Manbury gave him a shrewd, calculating look. ‘Very handsome of you, Sir James. Alethea, what do you say? Would you care to go?’
Alethea hesitated. She had been taken by surprise, and was not quite sure how to answer. Although she was longing to be out of doors, she certainly had no wish for Devenish’s company.
‘It is very good of Sir James, ma’am, but I would not like to leave you on your own.’
‘Nonsense, child, you need not regard that. You must know that I am always best pleased if I can take a rest at this hour of the day. At my time of life one cannot burn the candle at both ends and one’s evenings are often so fatiguing, don’t you agree, Sir James?’
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p; ‘Prodigiously fatiguing, ma’am,’ he drawled, ‘and frequently a dead bore into the bargain.’ He turned to Alethea, an ironical smile on his lips. ‘So you see, Miss Newnham, you need consult nothing but your own inclination.’
Put like this, she could scarcely refuse him and soon he was handing her up into a smart phaeton with yellow wheels. A groom who had been left in charge of the horses was dismissed with a nod. Devenish took up the reins, and the equipage moved smoothly forward in the direction of the Park.
For a time, there was silence between them. The streets were busy, and most of Devenish’s attention was on his driving. As for Alethea, she felt that she had been outmanoeuvred, and consequently was in no mood to initiate a conversation.
As they passed through the gate into the Park, he turned towards her and said ‘A penny for your thoughts, ma’am.’
‘They’re not worth it,’ she replied, with a shrug.
‘No, I suppose not — to me at any rate.’ He gave her a smile that was less ironical than usual, so that for a moment she fancied she caught a glimpse of quite another man from the elegant, languid Beau Devenish. It was gone again before she could make any mental adjustment. ‘I think I can safely hazard a guess about them, however,’ he concluded. The smile broadened, inviting her to respond.
She refused to be drawn. ‘Indeed, sir?’
He laughed and flung up an arm as though to defend himself from a blow. ‘Egad, are you so very displeased? I knew you were thinking me a tiresome fellow for forcing your hand just now, but I ventured to hope that once we were out driving, you might think better of it — and of me.’
‘You are quite correct in supposing that I don’t care to have my hand forced,’ retorted Alethea, coldly.
The Beau and the Bluestocking: Romantic intrigue in Regency London Page 7