Mr Rushford's Honour

by Meg Alexander

  'No...! Yes...! I don't know... Tell the groom, I will send word within the hour.'

  'Well, Mr Hanson, was I right?' Cook looked at him in triumph.

  'I fear you were. Madam is not herself. Let us hope that she will ride out this morning. For her it is a sovereign remedy for a sad mood.'

  Gina was in agreement with him, but there were other claims upon her time. Both she and the girls required replenishments to their wardrobes. Clothing that had been suitable in Scotland would not serve in the softer, warmer climate of Northamptonshire, especially during the summer months. That was, of course, if they were to see the sun at all this year. The last two summers had been disastrous, or so she'd heard.

  Idly, she leafed through the pages of Ackermann 's Repository. India had given her the name of a clever mantua-maker in Northampton, a French refugee, she thought. Even so, she would choose styles, colours and fabrics before she approached the woman.

  Gina knew what suited her, and elegance was her aim. She lacked the height to, carry off extremes of fashion, such as the famous 'Marie' sleeve which was puffed and ruched with epaulettes, puffed oversleeves and frilled cuffs. In that, she told herself, she would resemble nothing so much as a gaily-coloured mushroom.

  Perhaps a plain blue walking-dress in French cambric? And a morning-dress of jaconet muslin, made up to the throat, with sleeves buttoned tightly at the wrists?

  She laid the magazine aside, unable to raise even a transitory interest in the coloured plates. She would return to the task later. It would not take her long to decide on the number of round robes she and the girls would require. They could be made in silk or muslin in simple styles and pastel colours.

  Evening wear was even less of a problem at the moment. High fashion would be out of place in the country, even when dining with Lord and Lady Isham.

  She caught her breath at the thought of returning to the Grange. How could she face Giles again?

  For a long desperate moment she was tempted to close the Mansion House and leave for Scotland with the girls. Then common-sense returned. There was nothing to be gained by running away, and much to lose. The girls were settled at the Academy, and Mair, in particular, must be closer to London to make her come-out during the following year.

  To flee would be the action of a coward, and cowardice Gina despised above all else. Giles, she knew, would never follow her to Scotland, so she would stay in Abbot Quincey, facing up to whatever the fates might have in store for her.

  For the first time the suspicion of a smile touched her lips. Gina was no believer in fate. She had always favoured giving it a strong push. Nor did she sympathise with those who bemoaned a lack of opportunity. Napoleon Bonaparte might be considered a monster by most of her acquaintances, but one of his precepts had stuck in her mind. 'Opportunities?' he had remarked. 'I make opportunities.' Gina was fully in agreement with his words.

  Well, now she was to be given the chance to put his advice to the test. She rang the bell and ordered her horse saddled and brought round. Her mind was always clearer on a long ride, and the fresh air would do her good.

  She was about to go to her room and change from her pale green sacque into riding dress when Hanson reappeared.

  'Madam, you have a visitor,' he announced.

  Gina frowned. 'I am not receiving this morning, Hanson. You must deny me.'

  'Madam, I tried, but the gentleman says that he is expected. It is Mr Thomas Newby.'

  'Oh, Lord, I had forgot!' Gina struck her forehead. 'You had best show him in...'

  'And your horse, ma'am?'

  'I shall still require Beau to be saddled. Mr Newby will not stay long.'

  Gina summoned up a smile to greet her visitor. She had not forgotten his kindness on the previous day.

  He came towards her looking anxious.

  'Have I been importunate, Lady Whitelaw? Your butler said that you were not receiving, and I feared that you were suffering from some malaise. I wished to assure myself that it was not so.'

  'Mr Newby, you are very kind, but as you see I am quite well. I gave orders that I was not to be disturbed as I had some matters to attend...' Gina indicated the pile of papers on her desk. 'And then, you know, I am not yet dressed for receiving.' She glanced down at her simple dress.

  'You always look beautiful to me,' Thomas said earnestly. 'But I am sorry to have broken in upon your morning's work. Do you find it onerous, ma'am?'

  'Why no! I like to keep myself occupied...' Unreasonably Gina was irritated by the note of sympathy in his voice. 'And I am accustomed to dealing with my own affairs...I have done it for so long, you see.'

  Thomas shook his head. 'You are so brave, but it must be a strain on you. Ladies have no head for figures, so I understand. Sometimes you must feel the need for help...for a guiding hand perhaps?'

  He did not see the flash of anger in her eyes. Gina did not welcome interference, and the only guiding hand which she would tolerate was denied to her. She was almost tempted into a sharp retort, but she bit back the words. Thomas was on dangerous ground, but he meant only to be kind.

  'I find that I have a head for figures,' she said mildly. 'Mr Newby, it is good of you to be concerned, but you must not worry about me...'

  The next moment Thomas was on his knees beside her chair, endeavouring to seize her hands.

  'How can I help it?' he cried. 'Oh, Lady Whitelaw...Gina...I love you with all my heart. I long for nothing more than to share your burdens.. .to make you happy. That would be my purpose for the rest of my days. Will you marry me?'

  Gina was startled into silence. She looked down at the eager face of her companion in shocked surprise, and there was no encouragement in her expression.

  'Mr Newby, please get up,' she said at last. 'I am touched by your concern for me, but I fear that it has carried you away. Believe me, I have no thought of marriage at this present time.'

  Thomas stayed where he was. 'Tell me at least that I may hope,' he pleaded. 'I'll wait for you for ever, if need be. I mean...until you have given some thought to my proposal. I may not be the cleverest of men, but I can offer you a loving heart.'

  'I know that, Mr Newby.' Gently Gina withdrew her hands from his clasp. 'Your heart will be given, in time, to a lady who returns your regard.'

  Thomas could not mistake her tone. He rose to his feet. 'As you do not, Lady Whitelaw?'

  'I value you as a dear friend,' she said, 'Friendship is important in a marriage, naturally, but there must be something more...'

  'You speak of love? But surely that might come in time. I'd do my best to make you love me...'

  'Love cannot be forced,' she told him quietly. 'Mr Newby, I have had experience. My late husband was the best of men. He was my closest friend. I have not spoken of this before to anyone, but I want to make you understand. Sir Alastair and I were happy together, but there was something missing... If I were to marry again it would not be on the basis of friendship alone.'

  'There are worse things,' he protested.

  'True, but there are also better things...' Gina fell silent.

  'Is there someone else?' he demanded miserably.

  Gina gave him a long look and he blushed to the roots of his hair.

  'I beg your pardon,' he said quickly. 'I had no right to ask that question. Will you forgive me?'

  'Of course.' Gina smiled at him and held out her hand. 'I intend to ride this morning. Will you go with me, Mr Newby?'

  'A pleasure and an honour, ma'am.'

  'Then give me a few moments to change my dress. I shall not keep you waiting long.'

  She was as good as her word, but they had scarcely left the outskirts of the village before they saw a horseman in the distance, riding towards them at breakneck speed.

  'Ain't that Giles? What the devil... ? Oh, I beg your pardon, Lady Whitelaw. Didn't mean to swear, but he'll kill both himself and the mare if he don't slow down.'

  Giles was upon them before she could reply.

  'Turn back!' he ordered sh
arply. 'I have bad news!' He had eyes only for Gina, and she searched his face in terror. Her first thought was for the girls.

  'Mair and Elspeth?' she said faintly. 'Has something happened to them?'

  His hand went out to grip her shoulder. 'Nothing like that, Gina, but my news is serious. Spencer Perceval was assassinated yesterday in the House of Commons...'

  'The Prime Minister?' Thomas was incredulous. 'Is it a conspiracy?'

  'We don't know yet, but we can't discuss it here. When we get back to Abbot Quincey I'll tell you all I know.'

  Chapter Nine

  Obediently, Gina turned for home. Then Thomas seized her reins.

  'Please don't do that,' she said through gritted teeth. 'I can manage Beau myself...'

  'But, ma'am, the shock!'

  'Mr Newby, I have suffered shock before...' Gina spurred her horse ahead before she uttered words which she would be certain to regret.

  Startled by the vehemence of her outburst, Thomas did not attempt to catch up with her. Instead he looked at Giles.

  'Never try that again.' Giles shook his head. 'Gina prides herself on her horsemanship. You are lucky she didn't strike you with her crop.'

  'Clearly she is overwrought by your news,' Thomas assured him stoutly. 'I'm surprised that she didn't faint upon the spot.'

  'Gina?' Giles looked at him in wonder. 'You have much to learn about her, Thomas.'

  'I know it,' his friend said sadly. 'I have just this morning offered for her, but she turned me down.'

  Giles was seized with an overwhelming feeling of relief. He was ashamed of the sense of exultation which possessed him, and he did his best to conceal it.

  'Did she give a reason?' he asked in a casual tone.

  'She says that she don't wish to marry again...at least until...until she can give her love.'

  He looked so downcast that Giles was moved to pity.

  'Don't take it to heart,' he urged. 'Gina has much upon her mind at present, and this latest news must worry all of us.'

  'She didn't know of it when she refused me,' Thomas mourned.

  'Nevertheless, it is a shocking thing. Perceval was shot in the lobby of the House, with all his friends about him.'

  Thomas paled beneath his freckles. 'Will it mean revolution, Giles? I've heard of the French ideas spreading over here. It's barely twenty years since they took to wholesale massacre...'

  'Isham doubts it, but he can't be sure. He left for London within the hour to find out what he can. Meantime, I'm enjoined to take good care of the ladies. Shall you wish to return to your home? Your father may be worried.'

  'Wouldn't think of it. I have two brothers. They'll take care of my father, if care is needed, but he's a tough old bird, and more than a match for any mob.

  He won't take kindly to the thought of a guillotine being set up in the market place of a Yorkshire village.'

  'It happened in France,' Giles warned. 'I'm determined to take no chances with our womenfolk.'

  'Of course not. I'd be honoured if you will allow me to share the responsibility. Above all, we must not frighten them.'

  Giles grimaced. 'My mother is already in strong hysterics. Both India and Letty are likely to have a trying time with her.'

  'At least they will comfort each other. Dear little Gina is alone.'

  'I think you have forgot her family,' Giles replied with some asperity. 'They live here in the village.'

  'Yes, yes! I expect that she will turn to them for protection.'

  Much to his surprise, Gina showed no sign of needing protection of any kind. Once inside the Mansion House she drew off her riding gloves and rang for wine before she questioned Giles.

  'Can you tell us more?' she asked. 'Was the assassin taken?'

  'He was. His name is Bellingham. He is to be tried without delay.'

  'Has he confessed his reason for the crime?'

  'He has said nothing.'

  'That's strange!' Gina mused. 'A fanatic... someone with a cause will usually shout his beliefs to the world at large.'

  Thomas stared at her. Instead of indulging in a fit of the vapours Gina was discussing the murder as a problem to be solved by cool analysis of the facts. Gradually it was being borne in upon him that he didn't know her at all.

  She continued in the same vein. 'Do you suppose that he is quite sane?' she asked. 'This may simply be the act of a single madman.'

  Giles smiled at her. 'You might be quoting Isham,' he informed her. 'He said as much before he left. Even so, he feels that we should take no chances.'

  'Madmen and fanatics?' Thomas was nonplussed. 'Lady Whitelaw, you cannot mean that you have experience with such creatures?'

  'Alas, more frequently than I care to recall, Mr Newby. The Indian continent is a hotbed of fanaticism.'

  'Oh, my dear ma'am, how very dreadful for you!'

  'It was instructive,' she said drily. Then she turned to Giles. 'What would you have me do?'

  'For the present you should not ride out too far into the country, and certainly not without an escort. It would be all too easy for some hothead to conceal himself and take a shot at you or the girls.'

  He saw the mutinous look about her mouth. He smiled at her again and Gina's heart turned over. That smile, so rarely seen these days, transformed his face, lighting up the room.

  'This is not an order, you prickly creature. It's merely a suggestion. Come now, Gina, give me your word! If you won't consider your own safety, I know that you will think about the girls.'

  At his coaxing words, Gina's objections vanished.

  'You are right,' she admitted in a contrite tone. 'It would be foolish not to take precautions. May I come to visit your sisters this afternoon? India must be worried about her husband's safety in the capital.'

  'You'll bring at least one groom?'

  'I'll bring two if it will please you.' Unthinking, she held out both her hands to him. 'Am I forgiven for my stubborn ways?'

  'Always, my love!' The endearment slipped out before he was aware of it, but Giles did not pay it attention. He continued to hold her hands as he looked deep into her eyes. Neither of them noticed that Thomas had left the room.

  'Take care!' Giles whispered. 'Remember, you have given me your word!' He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it briefly. Then he hurried away.

  It was not until they had almost reached the Grange that Thomas challenged him.

  'You should have told me,' he reproached.

  'I've told you all I know.' Giles misunderstood him. 'I didn't hear about the assassination until two hours ago.'

  'I'm not referring to that,' Thomas said stiffly. 'I mean...well...had you mentioned that you and Gina...Lady Whitelaw...had a tendre for each other I should not have offered for her.'

  Giles slowed the mare down to a walking pace. He had never discussed his love for Gina with another soul, but he was not proof against the air of dejection so evident in his friend.

  'We knew each other long ago,' he admitted. 'It is ten years since we met in Italy. Gina was little more than a child, and I was a lovesick boy.'

  Thomas shook his head. 'She loves you still. I cannot be mistaken. She does not look at me as she looks at you.'

  'She is still clinging to a girlish dream.' His friend's tone grew harsh. 'Those can be the most difficult to give up.'

  'She is a woman grown.' Thomas was angry. 'Since you met she has been married and widowed, and still she loves only you. Can you dismiss her constancy so lightly?'

  'I must. I have naught to offer her.'

  'But you will not tell me that you don't return her affection, Giles? I should not believe you. No one can fail to love her.'

  Giles gave a muffled groan. 'I need no convincing of that...' He urged his horse into a gallop until they reached the Grange.

  Gina herself was feeling much more cheerful. At the first sign of danger, real or imagined, Giles had hastened to her side, clearly concerned about her safety. And he had forgotten his firm resolve to keep her at a dista
nce.

  Now she treasured the memory of his smile, his touch and those unnoticed words of endearment which had slipped out unawares.

  She ordered a light nuncheon of cold meats and fruit and ate it with much enjoyment.

  Dreamily, she held her hand against her cheek, reliving the memory of his kiss. Her lover's defences had crumbled at the first hint of danger to her. She'd been wrong to give way to despair. All was not yet lost.

  Then she took herself to task. The danger which she half welcomed had been born of tragedy. She had been thinking only of herself whilst India must be mad with worry about her husband. Isham would take his seat in the House of Lords, just a stone's throw from where the murder had been committed.

  Mindful of Giles's warning, Gina ordered her carriage. By now the news of the assassination had spread throughout the village and she could hear isolated bursts of cheering.

  Quickly she called her household together to explain that they were in no immediate danger.

  Cook was unconvinced. She jerked her head towards the windows. 'Just listen to 'em, ma'am! They are celebrating the poor man's murder, if you please...'

  'Idlers and malcontents!' Gina said firmly. 'They are the ones who run away whenever they are faced down.'

  'That's as maybe, my lady. I ain't stirring beyond these walls until the troops arrive.'

  'Have I asked you to do so?' Gina's cool gaze reduced the woman to silence. Then she turned to her outdoor staff. 'You will carry weapons at all times,' she ordered. 'Neame and Fletcher will accompany me to the Grange this afternoon, and Thomson will drive.'

  'Oh, ma'am, you're never going out?' Cook was abashed by her own temerity, but she was fond of her young mistress.

  'Indeed I am, but you need have no fears for me. I am well armed myself...'

  Cook screamed and threw her apron over her head. 'You'll be murdered, ma'am, I know it!'

  'Not if I can help it!' Gina swept out of the room, leaving the weeping woman to be sharply reprimanded by Hanson for letting down the household staff.