‘That’s your way of making sure you’re not vulnerable — I know. I’m not as dense as you think, James.’ Devenish made no answer. ‘But I wish you could see your way to giving me some advice, for damned if I know what to do.’
‘You could always follow the fair Lydia,’ said Devenish, reflectively. ‘Middlesex is not, after all, at the other end of the country. What part of Middlesex, by the way?’
For the first time, Allerton’s face relaxed into a smile. ‘A part we’re all too familiar with, from our unregenerate youth.’
‘You can’t mean Harrow? Yes, I see you do. And now I come to think of it, I know quite well that Mrs Manbury’s eldest daughter lives there. I’ve heard it from my grandmother — they’re neighbours.’
‘Are you suggesting —?’
‘Why not? I really think it’s high time that I paid a visit to my grandmother. She would like that extremely.’
Chapter XV
Roxeth Place, the country seat of Sir Roger Middleham, had been built for his father only twenty years previously, and presented a thoroughly modern appearance with its stucco exterior and pillared portico. Inside, all was comfort and good taste; decorations, furniture and hangings had all been renewed when Sir Roger took his bride there. Alethea, looking around her with an observant eye when she and Lydia first arrived, admired the cool, classical elegance of the principal rooms. She was particularly attracted by the drawing-room, which had several large windows giving views of well-laid out gardens, scattered here and there with classical statues. A marble temple stood beside an ornamental lake and beyond lay extensive parkland. She felt that, without any difficulty at all, she could pass a very pleasant few days in such surroundings.
Their welcome, too, was all that the most exacting visitor could have wished. Eleanor Middleham was delighted to see fresh faces about her; her husband greeted the newcomers with relief, as his wife’s recent low spirits had tried his patience sorely. Now she was all animation, demanding news from Town and suggesting schemes for their entertainment while they were with her, scarcely pausing to hear their answers, or even to take a breath. Lydia, too, catching some of her sister’s excitement, began to chatter animatedly, and her face lost its sulky look as she supplied Eleanor with the current tit-bits of gossip.
‘I hear you are Devenish’s latest flirt,’ remarked Eleanor, with a twinkle.
‘Oh, no, that’s quite over now. He’s amusing for a time, but one soon tires of his nonsense,’ replied Lydia, carelessly.
‘Well, of course I realise that he’s never serious, but it’s no wonder that he turns so many heads, for he’s quite the beau ideal! We’ve seen him here once or twice visiting his grandmother, Lady Carteret, at Rushdene Park, though not very lately. I dare say Lady Carteret will call, by the way, once word gets to her that you are staying with me.’
Lydia did not look overwhelmed with joy at this prospect, and her face fell still further when the Middleham children were brought into the room by their nurse for a few moments. They were attractive children, a girl of three years old with dark curls and an elfin face, and a boy scarcely two, who was as fair as his sister was dark. After a momentary show of shyness, little Marianne prattled away quite happily to Alethea, who was used to children and generally knew how to interest them; but Robin flung his arms round his nurse’s knees, burying his face in her apron and refusing to look up even for his father.
‘Come, that’s scarcely a civil greeting for your Aunt,’ said Sir Roger in a coaxing tone.
‘Oh, don’t mind me,’ said Lydia. ‘I’m not at all upset if they don’t choose to notice me. You must know that I’m no use with children — I fear they bore me extremely.’
This could scarcely be thought of as a tactful speech, and for a moment Eleanor Middleham looked hurt. But she was too used to her sister’s ways to take serious offence, so she kissed the little ones and sent them off to the nursery again.
‘What a delightful pair,’ said Alethea, with some idea of pouring oil on troubled waters, although her admiration was quite sincere. ‘I think little Marianne favours you, Eleanor.’
This happy remark succeeded in banishing any ill will aroused by Lydia’s gaucherie, and soon the two sisters were talking away again at a great rate, while Sir Roger pursued a more leisurely conversation with Alethea.
‘Do you ride, Cousin Alethea?’ he asked presently.
She nodded. ‘Why, yes. I live in the country, you know, and there one must either ride or be prepared to walk very long distances.’
He looked pleased. ‘Then you will perhaps like to ride my wife’s mare while you are here — the poor beast hasn’t had nearly enough exercise of late. She is very gentle, I promise you, an ideal mount for a lady.’
‘You are most kind — yes, I should like that. But what about my cousin Lydia?’
‘Oh, Lydia doesn’t care for horse riding. But I’m sure she and Eleanor will have plenty to occupy them, should you wish to slip away any time for an hour or so. Only listen to them now!’
The rest of the day passed away pleasantly. Sir Roger accompanied the two girls on a stroll in the grounds during the afternoon while his wife took her customary rest; afterwards they sat down to a quiet family dinner followed by cards and conversation. It was one of the most relaxed evenings that Alethea had spent since leaving her own home, and she felt all the benefit of it. She told herself that a few such peaceful, uneventful days would be a tonic after the hurly burly of London life; little did she know how soon that peace was to be shattered.
Events were set in train the next morning, when the ladies were sitting in a parlour at the front of the house. Hearing the sound of horses and wheels approaching along the drive, Lydia and Eleanor hastened to the window. A carriage with crested panels was approaching at a sedate pace, closely attended by two gentlemen on horseback.
‘Why, it’s Lady Carteret’s carriage!’ exclaimed Eleanor. ‘I told you she would be here, Lydia, when she knew of your arrival, but I never dreamt it would be quite so soon!’
But Lydia had made a surprising and welcome discovery of her own. ‘Lud, who do you think it is with her? Devenish — and Vivyan, of all people! What in the world can he be doing here?’
She ran to the nearest mirror and began patting her hair into place. Alethea felt a pang of dismay. There would be trouble if her Aunt found out about this, and had not Lydia said that her sister Eleanor was a tale-bearer?
In a moment the visitors were among them, and a footman was despatched to summon Sir Roger, who was with his secretary in the library. Lady Carteret, a tall, dignified woman in her early seventies with a lively eye and a smile that suggested a resemblance to her grandson, was all affability. She had come over, it seemed, with the intention of engaging them all to dine with her that same evening.
‘Such a fortunate chance,’ she remarked, with a twinkle in her eye, ‘that James should have chosen this very time to pay me one of his all too infrequent visits. And to have brought with him Mr Allerton, too, whose family has, I know, such a long-standing friendship with your own. We shall make a most agreeable party — that is, my dear Lady Middleham, if you should feel equal to a coach ride of ten minutes or so.’
Eleanor insisted that the exertion would be nothing compared to the benefit she would derive from an evening away from home, and so it was settled. Sir Roger, who had been talking of horse flesh to Devenish and Allerton, now offered to show them the latest additions to his stable. They accepted, and were about to follow him from the room when he turned to Alethea.
‘Would you perhaps care to accompany us, Cousin Alethea? I can show you the mare I was speaking of earlier.’
Alethea glanced at her hostess, who nodded. ‘Yes, by all means go — you, too, Lydia, if you wish, then Lady Carteret and I can have a quiet little coze together.’
Lydia rose with alacrity to accompany the others. ‘Not that I’m the least little bit interested in horses,’ she whispered to Alethea as they made their way to the side entra
nce of the house, ‘but since Vivyan’s come all this way just to see me, I may as well give him the opportunity of snatching a word or two, away from Eleanor’s ears.’
It was an opportunity that Allerton soon took once they were walking along the path which led to the stables, since here there was not sufficient room to walk five abreast. He and Lydia fell back a few paces, leaving the others to go on ahead.
‘Do I collect that Sir Roger is about to sell you a mare?’ asked Devenish of Alethea, with a quizzical look.
‘Sell? Good God, no!’ Sir Roger laughed, ‘It’s m’wife’s mare, but naturally the beast lacks exercise at present, and Miss Newnham has kindly promised to take it out now and then during the few days she’s to be with us.’
‘So you number horseriding among your talents, ma’am?’
‘I learned to ride from necessity, sir, and in the beginning I failed lamentably to exhibit any kind of talent for it,’ answered Alethea, with a laugh. ‘Had it not been for the perseverance of my brothers, I fear I should never have succeeded.’
‘Your brothers — ah, yes,’ murmured Devenish. ‘You have spoken of them before. I think you said you have no sisters, Miss Newnham?’
Alethea shook her head. ‘I’ve often wished I had.’
‘Can’t think why,’ put in Sir Roger, with a chuckle. ‘Far as I can see, sisters are for ever squabbling with each other. What say you, Devenish?’
‘I fear I’m scarcely qualified to speak, as I don’t possess any sisters.’
‘No, but you’ve had ample opportunity to study other people’s,’ began Sir Roger; then, realising that this was a somewhat equivocal remark, he coughed and hastily changed the subject. ‘Staying long with Lady Carteret this time?’
Devenish looked amused. ‘A day or two — my plans are uncertain.’
They had reached the stables by this time, and the head groom came out to speak to Sir Roger, leaving Alethea and Devenish standing together a little to one side.
‘There are several tolerably pretty villages within a very few miles of here, Miss Newnham. If you are to see the best of the surrounding country on your rides, you will require a guide who knows the district well.’
‘Oh, yes. But I’m quite sure I shall have one in Sir Roger.’
‘Of course,’ agreed Devenish, smoothly. ‘But Middleham’s a busy fellow, bowed down by domestic responsibilities. Should he find himself obliged to abandon you to the tender mercies of a groom, I would be most happy to take his place.’
‘You are very good, Sir James,’ she said, guardedly.
He bowed. ‘Not at all. My dear young lady, am I not pledged to give you a better understanding of me?’
‘It’s a pledge I did not require.’ She answered him primly enough, but her eyes sparkled with amusement. He really was the most absurd creature, even though she was quite determined not to allow him to flirt with her as he did with so many others.
‘Alas, no. I can make no headway at all with you. I can only say with Orsino “Still so cruel?”’
She completed the quotation. ‘“Still so constant, lord.”’
He smiled lazily. ‘Ah, yes, you would know your Twelfth Night. Tell me, ma’am, do you suppose Olivia really did mean to spurn Orsino, or was she simply employing an age-old feminine technique for drawing the poor fellow deeper into her net?’
Alethea laughed, then pondered for a moment. ‘No, I don’t think so,’ she said, at last. ‘As far as I recollect, there was nothing either in her character or her later actions to suggest it. But are you serious, sir? I take leave to doubt it! If you are, what evidence would you bring forward to support your view?’
‘Evidence — ah, yes. You wouldn’t allow me to offer as evidence my own knowledge of the female sex, I suppose?’ His hazel eyes held a twinkle as they met hers for a second. ‘No, I see you would not, and I can’t altogether blame you. You would require textual evidence, of course. Well, to go further with this discussion, we need to consider the text of the play together. Perhaps we may have an opportunity to do so this evening, since you are all to dine with my grandmother.’
Alethea shook her head. ‘I doubt if the rest of the party would think that very civil of us.’
‘Ah, I see what it is, ma’am. You don’t wish to pursue the discussion further, thinking that I may prove my point.’
‘It’s no such thing — how dare you! You really are the most teasing person!’
‘Acquit me,’ he said, with mock solemnity. ‘I haven’t the temerity to tease one of your disposition.’
‘Oh?’ She abandoned for the moment her attempt to adopt a repressive attitude towards him. ‘I take leave to doubt that, sir! Pray, what do you make of my disposition?’
‘I think that must wait until another time,’ he said in an undertone as Sir Roger, having finished his conversation with the groom, turned towards them again.
A stable lad was leading out Eleanor’s mare, and Sir Roger invited Alethea’s opinion of the animal.
‘She’s a pet, isn’t she?’ replied Alethea, stroking the mare’s nose. ‘I can see that she’s as every bit as gentle as you claim. What did you say her name is, Cousin Roger?’
‘Dulcetta. But let me see you try her, Cousin. Just a turn or two about the yard.’
‘Well, I’m not really dressed for it, but that’s no great matter. Very well, then, for I’d like to see how we suit, Dulcetta and I.’
The mare was made ready and Sir Roger assisted Alethea to mount. They all watched as she took the animal quietly round the stableyard without the slightest difficulty.
‘Capital!’ he said, after having watched her for a few minutes. ‘You have an excellent seat, and I shall certainly have no qualms for your safety. What do you say if we go out for a ride later on, when my wife’s taking her afternoon rest?’
‘Oh, I should like it of all things!’ exclaimed Alethea, as she dismounted. ‘But what would Lydia find to amuse her,’ she added, as an afterthought, ‘if her sister’s resting?’
‘I dare say she’ll not mind for once, eh, Lydia? Lydia, I say!’
He had to repeat her name, because she and Allerton were still so engrossed in each other that they seemed oblivious of everything else. She looked up at last with a vague smile, asking what he wanted. He explained, and she shook her head.
‘Oh, there’s no need to mind me,’ she said, with unwonted generosity. ‘Most likely I shall find some shady nook in the garden and be quite content to pass the afternoon there.’
The faintest of frowns creased Devenish’s usually inscrutable brow.
‘But why don’t we all go?’ demanded Allerton, coming to life again. ‘We could go in my curricle, Lydia, since you don’t care for riding — that is, if you can face the thought of jolting over country lanes.’
He looked at her doubtfully for a moment, but to his delight she nodded.
‘I think so — after all, I suppose we shouldn’t cover any great distance.’
‘Certainly not, for your cousin will be strange to her mount,’ Sir Roger reminded her.
‘Oh, as to that,’ put in Alethea, ‘with such an amenable creature as Dulcetta there can be no trouble.’
She gave the mare a final pat before it was led away.
‘Well, no, so I think. But should you find any difficulty, there will be two of us to keep an eye on you — I take it you’ll ride with us, Devenish?’
Devenish replied with alacrity that nothing would give him greater pleasure, and a time was fixed there and then for the two gentlemen to present themselves at the house.
‘And now I’d like to show you my new bay,’ said Sir Roger. ‘It may be dull work for you two girls, so I shan’t take it amiss if you want to stroll back to the house and join the ladies.’
‘Oh, be sure we know when we’re not wanted, don’t we, Alethea?’ said Lydia, with a saucy toss of her dark curls.
‘No, I say!’ protested Allerton. ‘No such thing!’
She had linked her arm in Alethea’s
and was turning away, but she paused to flash an enchanting smile in his direction. Sir Roger looked after her thoughtfully for a moment.
Chapter XVI
Alethea was enjoying herself. The afternoon was warm, but not too hot, the lanes leafy and fragrant with May blossom. Her mount gave her no trouble; in fact, she was a sufficiently good horsewoman to have managed a much more lively animal than the gentle Dulcetta.
She found herself enjoying her company, too. The curricle went ahead of the riders on the road; occasionally either Sir Roger or Devenish would ride alongside it for a while before dropping back to join the other two.
During his intervals at her side, Sir Roger kept up an interesting commentary on the scenes through which they were passing. Devenish’s conversation was, as usual, entertaining, but on a less trivial note than formerly. He began by asking her if she had read any of Paul Tracy’s poetry.
‘Why, yes,’ she replied, surprised. ‘I’ve been reading some very lately — Mr Tracy was good enough to give me one of his books.’
‘Indeed.’ His characteristic drawl was very much in evidence. ‘And may I ask what is your opinion of his work?’
Alethea hesitated. ‘I’m not really qualified to pass an opinion on a subject of which I know so little.’
He laughed, and she thought how much more attractive he looked when his expression was animated. ‘I say fustian to that, ma’am! The opinion of a serious reader must always be worthy of attention, at least. Come, now.’
She realised that this was very much what she had said to young Simon Allerton not so long ago.
‘Very well. I thought Mr Tracy’s poems showed both originality and power. I was somewhat surprised at the — the vigour of some of them,’ she added.
‘Yes, it is unexpected,’ he agreed. ‘But writers themselves are often quite different in character from what their works would lead one to imagine.’
‘Oh, so you have read the poems yourself?’ asked Alethea, incredulously.
The Beau and the Bluestocking: Romantic intrigue in Regency London Page 11