by Carola Dunn
“That would be unfortunate, though she does weep charmingly.”
Hester, only too aware that her eyes reddened if she so much as thought of crying, made haste to admire the view, and then remembered to enquire after her protégé, Albert the ex-sweep. His lordship assured her that he had taken a new lease on life as a stableboy, and asked to be “remembered” to her at every opportunity. He silently wished Mistress Florabel would prove as easy to dispose of to everyone’s satisfaction.
Wednesday’s sight-seeing was a great success. Mr. Charworthy was once more moved to utter a complete sentence.
“Never thought it would be half so jolly looking at ruins,” he pronounced.
Since they were at that moment gazing at the impressive portico of the Mansion House, official residence of the Lord Mayor of London and scarce sixty-five years old, the others went into whoops. George was not at all offended.
“You are a dear,” said Miss Bardry, and boldly kissed his cheek.
At the end of the tour of London, Hester managed to speak privately to Alice. She delivered a necessarily vague warning against encouraging the attentions of Sir Hubert Rathwycke. “Do you particularly like him?” she asked anxiously, remembering that Grace had found him fascinating.
“He is very agreeable. Everyone is very agreeable, but I do wish John . . . Mr. Collingwood were here. He writes that he cannot come until the middle of May. Little John will be over a year old by the time we can be married.”
“You have not yet found anyone to replace Mr. Collingwood in your affections? You were used to be so volatile, my dear, that almost I think I shall be compelled to let you have him.”
“Do not speak so, Hester. You have no notion what it is to be truly in love. If it were not for his letters, I should be wholly miserable.”
“It is not at all what your mama wanted for you. I suppose I should not have permitted you to write to each other, only I did not think it could last. How I wish he had never come to Henley; then you would be perfectly happy by now in the arms of a nobleman, or at least a man of fortune. When I think of the opportunity you are throwing away, I declare I cannot understand you at all.”
Alice flounced away.
* * * *
Between devising amusements for Hester’s afternoons, Lord Alton managed to find time to take Robbie on the Thames. He had the brilliant notion of inviting his nephew Frederick along, and after a wary sizing-up the two boys decided to be friends. Uncle David was amazed at the way Freddy blossomed when not in the repressive presence of his mother. Subdued at first, he was quick to follow Robbie’s lead and soon became equally enthused over the precise identification of every piece of shipping in the busy river. A friendly deckhand was soon enlisted in the cause, leaving his lordship to regard the passing scenery in peace and to wonder whether Hester would enjoy a river trip to Greenwich. Not, of course, on a steamer belching filthy smoke accompanied by a deafening clatter and roar, but a wherry or perhaps a yacht would be pleasant.
All too soon for Robbie, the adventure was over, and they were delivering his new friend in Charles Street. Lord Alton rang the bell.
“Thank you very much, sir,” said Frederick, still somewhat in awe of his hitherto daunting uncle. A sudden daring idea crossed his mind. “Could we . . . do you suppose Rob could come up, just for a minute, to the schoolroom? I have a book of sailing ships he would like to see. Please, sir?”
The door opened, and Lord Charworthy’s imposing butler appeared. Lord Alton was suddenly aware that not only were the boys decidedly grimy, but his own fashionable raiment was also spotted with soot.
“Good afternoon, my lord,” pronounced the butler, bowing. “Perhaps Master Frederick had better slip up the back stairs quick before her ladyship returns.” His usually stately tone was positively conspiratorial.
“Thank you, Mumford,” returned his lordship gratefully. “Master Robert will go with him for a few minutes, and come to think of it, so will I. I cannot sit in the drawing room in this state.”
They found themselves staying for nursery tea, over which Lord Alton made the acquaintance of Freddy’s tutor, a frustrated young man who spent his time trying to soften his mistress’s harsh dictates.
Robbie was on his best behaviour, and after tea Mr. Wallace, the tutor, asked whether the boy might be able to join them occasionally on their afternoon walks in Green Park. “I could send a footman or a groom to fetch him,” he assured Lord Alton.
His lordship, sure that Hester would be happy to wean Robbie from the urchins of Paddington, and himself delighted to introduce her brother into his sister’s household even without her knowledge, agreed promptly, and, persuading his young friend against one more cake, took him home.
James Godric had already been introduced to Mr. Terence Charworthy by George. To the general astonishment of the family, Terence had outgrown a youthful talent for devilry and become a scholar with a genuine love of the classics. He was a year older than Jamie, but little further advanced in his studies, having missed a year of school due to a dangerous inflammation of the lungs, from which he was still recovering.
The two youths were different in so many ways that Lord Alton, hopeful that they would like each other, had been very unsure of the outcome. James was the eldest son of an impoverished gentleman, used to responsibility but shy, and in spite of his leanness a thoroughly healthy lad. Terence was a semi-invalid still, yet as the second son of a peer, he was a self-assured, carefree young man. Whether it was the attraction of opposites or simply their mutual interest, the two were soon inseparable.
Lady Ariadne—who, having once laid down the law, was as uninterested in her children as her mother had been—was quite unaware of her younger sons’ new friendships. Without any overt conspiracy, everyone in the know seemed to avoid mentioning the matter in her hearing. For the moment, Lord Alton was content to have it thus.
This was the situation, then, when one evening at about six o’clock, his lordship was enticed forth from his library by a commotion in the hallway. At first he could see nothing but the backs of his butler and the two footmen flanking him.
“What is going on, Harding?” he asked in his pleasantest voice.
The footmen quailed and drew back. Their master did not often cut up stiff, but when he did, the explosion was invariably preceded by just that conversational tone.
Harding, made of sterner stuff, turned to explain the disturbance. Beyond him stood a pair of truculent constables, and between them they half-supported and half-restrained a stripling with one eye closed by a swelling that was already purpling, and blood streaming from his nose. It was Geoffrey.
“Help me, sir!” he cried, starting forward, and fell in a dead faint at his lordship’s feet.
Chapter 14
“Be this young ‘un yer ward, my lord?” demanded one of the officers of the law, disbelievingly. “That be wot ‘e claims.”
“Certainly,” replied his lordship, with what he considered remarkable coolness under the circumstances. “Harding, have Master Geoffrey carried above stairs and cleaned up. I shall be with you shortly. Now my good man, what is all this fracas about?”
“Werl, don’t know as it be needful to tell ifn yer lordship’s ‘is guardian right enough.”
“Come, officer, I must know what my young charge has been up to. I gather that you do not intend to prosecute, but I shall certainly have to see that nothing of the sort occurs again.”
“Disturbin’ o’ the peace,” broke in the other constable, an elderly man with a huge cavalry mustache hiding most of his face.
“Started a turn-up at the Cock Pit, din e’. ‘Ot to ‘and, that young ‘un, my lord.”
“Needs ter be broke ter bridle, if yer asks me,” announced the voice from behind the mustache. “An’ it’s my belief ‘e were ‘arf squiffy. Shot the cat, if yer knows what I means, my lord.”
“No need to bring charges ifn yer lordship’ll be responsible, that right, Bert?”
Lord Alton dis
creetly pressed a sovereign into each waiting palm and promised to speak severely to Master Geoffrey. Harding, having seen the footmen carry the lad above stairs and having called the housekeeper and my lord’s valet, had returned to usher out the cooperative constables.
Lord Alton took the stairs two at a time.
“Is he all right?” he queried, entering the bedchamber where Geoff was laid flat on his back, breathing stertorously.
“Certainly, my lord,” his housekeeper informed him indulgently. ‘A black eye and a bloody nose. Nothing you didn’t have yourself as a boy.”
“And gin on his breath, my lord!” added Southwell, casting a shocked glance at his fellow servant. After twelve years in his lordship’s service, he was still primly horrified by the occasional familiarities of Mrs. Peabody and the groom, Jerry, both of whom had known Lord Alton since he was in leading strings.
His lordship breathed a sigh of relief. He had half-expected that Geoffrey might get up to some mischief or other, though he had not anticipated anything quite so spectacular. He blamed himself. The boy was high-spirited and used to hard work, and here he had been left to kick his heels for close to two months amid all the temptations of the metropolis. And all the while, Alton Court was sorely in need of just such an enthusiastic, industrious young man to learn the business of estate management before old Denton grew too infirm to teach him.
No more hesitations and tactical delays; he would speak to Geoff in the morning, and if he liked the idea, then Hester and Jamie must be persuaded that not only was the post perfect for their brother, but he was perfect for the post.
“If I might made so bold, my lord,” ventured the valet, “who is the young gentleman? He looks somewhat familiar to me, but Mrs. Peabody vows she has never set eyes on him before.”
“You saw him in Henley, Southwell, when you and Jerry came to fetch me. He is Geoffrey Godric, whose family took me in when I broke my leg.” The valet exchanged a quick glance with the housekeeper, full of understanding. Their master, regarding with mingled amusement and exasperation the battered face on the pillow, did not notice. “He’ll not come to any harm if we leave him alone, will he, Peabody? Southwell, look in on him occasionally, if you please. I must write a note to his sister at once, and then I will change for whatever occasion I have committed myself to this evening. I hope you remember whither I am bound. I really must find a secretary one of these days.”
When Geoffrey awoke the next morning, he had only the haziest memory of the events that had led to his arrival in Hanover Square. With the resilience of youth, he bounced out of bed. The gin that the perspicacious valet had detected on his breath had had no lasting effect, but his nose was tender to the touch, and when he looked in the mirror he was faced with quite the most spectacular shiner he had ever seen. A five-inch circle around his left eye was yellowish-black with an interesting tinge of green. Now, how had he come by that, and how was he going to explain it to Hester?
Seeking inspiration, he let his gaze wander idly round the room. If this was how Lord Alton lived, it was something like! He noticed a bell-pull by the bed, and after a moment’s hesitation pulled it.
Half an hour later, having exchanged his lordship’s nightshirt for his own cleaned and pressed clothes, he was ushered into a pleasantly sunny room redolent of ham and toasted muffins. Lord Alton looked up from the Times as he entered and was unable to suppress a wince at the sight of that eye.
“Good morning, sir,” said Geoffrey. “I daresay you are wondering—”
“Not at the breakfast table. I never wonder at breakfast. You may make your confession at a later date. Pray do not let the prospect spoil your appetite.”
Geoff was still eating when his host left the breakfast room, but he soon joined him in the library.
“I’m very sorry, sir,” he said. “I know I must have behaved disgracefully, but to tell the truth, I don’t remember much.”
“The constable mentioned the Cock Pit, and my man seemed to think you might have been . . . ah, a trifle inebriated.”
Recollection came flooding back. “That’s right! I never meant to go to the cockfighting at all. I was in a tavern nearby, the Cross Keys I think, and I had a mug of ale with some fellows there. Then one of them said I should try Blue Ruin, and he bought me a glass. I thought it was a kind of ale. It was not, was it?”
“Gin.”
“I was afraid it might be when I tasted it. But they would not let me leave it. Then they all went on to the Cock Pit, and I could not tell them I did not approve, could I? It was dreadful. Not so much the fight, though that was bad enough. One of the trainers was angry with his bird because it would not attack, and he was doing the most awful things to it. I cannot bear to remember it. When he would not stop, I hit him.”
“Doubtless he was twice your size,” sighed his lordship. “Pluck to the backbone and quite crack-brained. Knowing your sister, I might have guessed that some quixotic quirk must have led to your revolting appearance last night.”
“Aren’t you going to ring a peal over me?” asked Geoff cautiously.
“I feel that your punishment has already been adequate to the offence. I cannot find it in me to blame your action, except that is excessively vulgar to brangle and brawl with the lower classes, and you should not have been in the tavern in the first place. I have told Miss Godric that you are here with me, but I shall tell her no more, and I require you to hold your tongue, which I know to be no easy matter.”
“Of course I shall, sir,” said Geoff with dignity. “Only I must tell her something when she sees this eye.”
“She will not see it. Geoffrey, I have a proposition to lay before you that will keep you out of further mischief.” His lordship proceeded to explain his scheme to train Geoff as his agent.
Geoff was incredulous. “You can’t mean it, sir. I am by far too young.”
“I have seen how you kept a large garden in order by the sweat of your own brow. Do you not think yourself capable of learning to run an estate? It will be several years yet before Denton retires, but he needs an assistant immediately. I know no one I had rather employ.”
“I can do it. I’ll do it! I’ll make you glad you chose me, sir, wait and see!”
“I’m sure you will. In the meantime, you will post down to Hampshire today to look around, and you will not return until your face is fit to be viewed by a gentle female. I shall tell Hester you are gone to discover whether Alton Court is worthy of your attentions before you commit yourself. I engage myself to convince her and James of the wisdom of your decision. Now ring the bell, if you please. No, do not thank me. I am merely taking advantage of your need to remove yourself from town!”
* * * *
Any lingering misgivings Hester and Jamie may have felt were dismissed when Geoffrey returned to Paddington a week later, bubbling with enthusiasm. Alton Court was the finest house in the world, the land the richest possible, well-wooded and well-watered, the cornfields beginning to green in the April sun. He might lodge with Mr. and Mrs. Denton, and Hester need not fear that he would starve, for Mrs. Denton was a famous cook.
“Not as good as you, of course,” he said judiciously. “Just in the simple style, you know. And you should see the horses! I may ride whenever I have time.”
Three days later, he had packed his bags and left.
* * * *
The house would have seemed very empty after he left if it had not been for Cousin Florabel. Every time Hester approached the subject of her departure, she collapsed in floods of tears and vowed she would die in debtors’ prison. Hester was not proof against such tactics, though she berated herself for a hen-hearted craven.
Lord Alton would have been more than happy to eject the self-declared widow, but Hester’s pride forbade her requesting his aid, and he did not feel it was his place to intervene unasked. So Florabel stayed, and his lordship exerted himself to remove his beloved from the house during those hours when the unwanted guest was about.
To thi
s end, he decided it was time to tackle his sister. In the hope of killing two birds with one stone, he approached her in a roundabout fashion.
“I’ve been speaking to young Terence,” he opened without preliminaries. “The boy is worried that his studies are not advancing. I wish to hire a secretary, and I have an excellent young man in view.”
“I fail to see the connexion,” pronounced Lady Ariadne severely.
“I do not at present require his services full-time. If he were to teach my nephew a couple of hours a day, I should feel justified in engaging him now against future need. I should of course pay his entire salary.”
Lady Ariadne was persuaded to assent, though she was uncertain whether her brother was doing her a favour or vice versa. She dismissed such idle speculation from her mind.
“It is most gratifying that you are at last taking your family responsibilities seriously,” she informed him. “George tells me you invited him to make one of a party to Vauxhall Gardens last night. It was no more than due to him as your heir, of course. He mentioned a Miss Godric:
Miss Alice Godric’s half sister, I believe. It is curious that I have not heard Lady Bardry speak of her.”
Little did she realise how she was delivering herself into his hands. Hearing her maliciously triumphant tone, he knew that she had somehow ferreted out Hester’s background. It seemed possible that her desire to annoy her intimate friend might be stronger than her exaggerated ideas of what was due to her own consequence. Throwing caution and his careful but complicated plans to the winds, he decided to concentrate on that aspect.
“Miss Godric’s grandfather was in trade, as were the progenitors of so many members of present-day society, and Lady Bardry is ashamed of the connexion. She does not wish it known. I daresay she would be thrown into high fidgets if she supposed Miss Godric might enter the Fashionable World. She is a well-bred young woman, and I am heartily sorry for her. Miss Alice does not like to see her so isolated.”