Edward Lydney made no difficulty about acting as a cover for his devious friend; after all, he would be put to no real trouble in the matter. Somewhat to Neville’s surprise, the Earl raised no serious objections, either.
“Tired of doing the pretty already? Well, if you want to shake a loose leg for a bit, no harm done, I suppose. Cottesford knows what’s in my mind, so he’s unlikely to encourage any other suitor in your absence — if there are any others, eh?” He chuckled. “Take the courtship at your own gait, m’boy. As long as we have the wedding round about Christmas, I’ll be satisfied.”
Neville could only feel thankful that the scheme had succeeded with so little effort on his part, and that now at last he could be reunited with the adorable Dorinda.
CHAPTER IV
Mrs. Lathom had slipped out to do some marketing, and Dorinda sat alone in the cottage. Her deft fingers were busy with some needlework, but her mind was not on it.
There was a kind of melancholy pleasure in being alone for a while to indulge in uninterrupted daydreams of Mr. Stratton — to recall every word he had spoken to her, every look, every moment in his presence, until she came to those final precious words and looks and the parting kiss that had plighted their troth.
As she let her mind drift along this fair avenue of reminiscence, her heart seemed physically to swell within her as though at any moment it must burst with pent up emotion. Her needlework fell unheeded to the floor as she pressed both hands to her breast to try and quiet the tumult within.
She did not hear the knock upon the door at first, removed so far as she was at that moment from her immediate surroundings. But presently the sound broke through her abstraction, and she moved as one in a trance to answer it.
He was there, standing on the step. It seemed like a miracle, as if she had conjured him up by the very strength of her imaginings. In a moment, he had entered, slammed the door behind him, and gathered her into his arms.
Their lips met with the desperate urgency of lovers who must cheat time, must cram every moment with the outward expression of an inward intensity which can never be fully expressed. There was a singing in her ears; she felt light-headed, so that she scarcely realised when presently he guided her to the sofa and they lay there side by side. With all the strength of her being she wanted to give, give, give…
Afterwards they lay quietly clasped in each other’s arms, heedless of time or place. Too heedless to hear the cottage door opening until it was too late, and Mrs. Lathom stood before them, aghast.
The scene which followed soon brought them down to earth again. Mrs. Lathom did not mince her words, spoken in the first shock, and Dorinda punctuated them with sobs which shook her whole body. Neville’s first impulse was to escape from the cottage immediately, but he controlled this with difficulty and tried to put the best face on matters that he could.
“Dorinda and I are already betrothed, ma’am, and shall be wed as soon as may be — we but anticipated our union in the fulness of our hearts. Can you not understand and forgive?”
This speech encouraged the outraged mother to hope that Mr. Stratton had already obtained parental consent to the betrothal, and that therefore there need be no delay in contracting the marriage which was now so necessary to make an honest woman of her daughter. She dismissed the still weeping girl to her bedchamber and sat down to discuss matters with the impetuous lover.
She was. extremely taken aback to discover her mistake. For the first time, she admitted to herself doubts about his character. But it was too late for these now; the two must marry, and that speedily. What else was to be done? She would have given much at that moment to have had someone at hand to advise her, but the loss of her husband had thrown her entirely on her own resources. With no friends in the vicinity and her only close relative a brother in far-off London whom she had not seen and had scarcely heard of in well nigh twenty years, there was no one to whom she could turn.
The one hopeful aspect of the affair was that Mr. Stratton seemed as bent on an early marriage as Mrs. Lathom herself could be. He undertook to procure a special licence so that the ceremony could take place without delay.
“Depend upon it, ma’am — once your sweet daughter has become my wife, there will be no difficulty in reconciling my father to the match. What’s done cannot be undone, and he’ll have no choice but to accept the situation. Besides, when he comes to know my adorable Dorinda better, he cannot fail to value her as he ought.”
She was as ready to believe this as any mother in her circumstances would be, so she sent him on his way to procure the marriage licence. Any doubts she may have entertained as to whether they would ever set eyes on him again she kept from Dorinda, who passed the next few days in a state of euphoria. In spite of her misgivings, he did return, however; and a quiet ceremony took place in the parish church with only the clergyman, his parish clerk and a verger in attendance. As the small bridal party approached the church door, the quarter-boys of the ancient clock above it struck the half hour. Dorinda looked up and read once again the inscription over the clockface which she knew so well.
‘For our time is a very shadow that passeth away.’
She gave an involuntary shiver and the brightness of her face was dimmed for a moment.
The church was a vast building which gave a pathetic appearance to the small party gathered at the altar. How many weddings would have been solemnized there, wondered Mrs. Lathom with tears in her eyes, when so few people were present to mark the event? There should have been a full congregation and a swelling organ, a slim girl coming radiant down the aisle, white-robed and with a floating veil covering her bright hair. And if few mothers could forbear from weeping a little at a marriage ceremony, there should be no bitterness in the tears.
Instead, only two elderly church officers, grave and detached, looked on at a ceremony to which it now appeared that the bridegroom had not even remembered to bring a wedding ring.
The clergyman waited patiently, doubtless used to temporary losses of this most necessary adjunct to the service; but he soon saw from the expression on the bridegroom’s face that this was not an occasion when the ring had been mislaid for the moment in the understandable stress attendant on a marriage ceremony. It was plain that this unfortunate young man had actually forgotten to provide himself with one.
Smiling tolerantly, for he understood very well what the bridegroom’s state of mind must be when faced with such a dilemma, the Reverend indicated to Mrs. Lathom that she should slip off her own wedding ring so that it might be pressed into use for the time being. Before she understood, Neville quickly drew off his own gold signet ring engraved with his initial, entwined about a poppy head, the insignia of the Stratton family.
He placed this upon Dorinda’s slim finger, where it hung so loosely that he was obliged to clench her hand to prevent the ring from faffing off.
It was over. For better or worse, they were now man and wife.
After six halcyon honeymoon weeks, Neville reluctantly decided that his father was almost sure to be getting restive at his absence He must return home; but first it seemed wise to look in on his friend Lydney at Brighton, where he was supposed to have been all this time, in case the Earl had directed any messages to him there. The parting with his bride was painful to both; but he promised a speedy return with, he hoped, news of his father’s blessing on the marriage. Mrs. Lathom naturally made some attempt to discover exactly where he lived so that they could communicate with him if need be; but his powers of evasion were more than equal to hers of persuasion, so in the end she learnt nothing and was forced to abandon the attempt, for fear of impairing her daughter’s happiness in any way.
It was to this dashing resort of high fashion Neville went from the humbler scenes at Rye. Having called at Lydney’s house and been informed that its master was not at present within, he left a message with the servant to say he would be returning later, and then took a stroll about the town. He was within easy reach of the sea front and s
o took his way there first, standing for a while leaning against the railings which separated the path from the beach, surveying the scene.
The fashionable hour for bathing, which was uncomfortably early by London standards, was long since past; but a group of lads from the town paddled at the water’s edge, shoes and stockings clutched in their hands, shrieking with glee as the waves washed up to soak their breeches. Donkeys with riders on their backs cantered past, urged on by the whips of some boys who plied the animals for hire. A fat woman, skirts immodestly billowing in the breeze as she perched precariously on her donkey’s back, added her strident yells to those of the lads in the water; while her companions enjoyed her predicament so heartily that they almost fell off themselves.
Farther along the beach, Neville noticed some boats drawn up with fishing nets spread out to dry; nearby, a collier was unloading its dirty cargo. The sea was grey-blue today, reflecting the sun’s rays; although the white-capped waves were fairly boisterous, driven by a light breeze which set the fishing smacks dancing across them. Gulls swooped screaming overhead, and there was a strong, though not unpleasant, smell of ozone.
Neville lingered a while, finding the scene pleasing, although the crowd here was very different from that which he came upon presently when he strolled round to the fashionable parade in the Steyne. This was a triangular green surrounded by a broad brick path for pedestrians and railed off from an encircling carriageway. Here the people of Quality promenaded daily in fine weather, the ladies in pretty gowns of every hue, chatting with acquaintances or flirting with escorts. The men’s more sober garb was enlivened here and there by a scarlet military coat, for officers were quartered in the town from Army encampments nearby.
He had scarcely completed a leisurely circuit of the Steyne when he encountered Edward Lydney in company with several other gentlemen and two or three attractive young ladies, none of whom he knew. Introductions took place, and he continued in their company for the next hour or so, when Lydney took leave of his companions and escorted Neville back to the house.
“What did you think of Miss Barham?” Lydney asked him, when they had walked far enough away for the question not to be overheard.
“Miss Barham?”
“Yes, the dark young lady in the green and white striped gown. She has an air of quiet elegance that you must have remarked.”
Neville had no very clear picture of any of the young ladies from whom they had just parted. The image of Dorinda lingered with him still, making other females of little account. He made an effort to be civil, however, and answered that indeed Miss Barham had seemed a most engaging girl.
“I certainly find her superior to any whom I’ve met so far,” said Lydney. “And she has a fortune, too, as I understand.”
“Are you thinking of marriage?” asked Neville.
Lydney pursed his lips. “I might do worse, I suppose, although three and twenty is young for a man to think of settling down.”
This brought Neville to his own affairs. He had been longing for the opportunity to discuss them, and wasted no time in making his friend acquainted with the story of his sudden marriage.
Lydney heard him out in amazed silence. At the end of the recital he emitted a low whistle.
“Phew! That’s the devil of a coil!” he exclaimed. “What d’you mean to do now?”
“There’s nothing else for it, I suppose,” replied Neville, reluctantly, “but to confess the whole. But I’ll need to choose my time with care. I don’t need to tell you that he won’t like it. In fact,” he finished, gloomily, “I’d as soon have a limb chopped off — less painful, I dare swear.”
“You certainly have a rare talent for getting yourself into scrapes! Was there no other way out but to marry the girl?”
“None that I could see. It’s a respectable family. Money wouldn’t have served the purpose. Besides, I’m content enough with Dorinda. She makes me precisely the kind of wife I like. She’s affectionate and undemanding. She don’t always want a fellow to be going out of his way to please her, or expect to be forever squandering money on geegaws and frippery. She lets me order things as I wish, and never thinks of going against me in anything. If only my father would accept her, I might pass the rest of my days with her in tolerable comfort. But the devil of it is that I don’t think he will. To tell you the truth, Ned, I’m scared to death to broach the matter to him for fear he cuts me off without a penny! He’s quite capable of it, you know — he’s got the most damnable temper.”
“Well, he can’t cut you off permanently,” replied Lydney, consolingly, “since the title and estate must come to you on his death, do what he will.”
“Ay, that’s all very well, but how am I to live in the meantime, I’d like to know? I’ve no private fortune, only what he chooses to let me have. It’s cursed unlucky that none of my wealthy relatives ever thought to leave anything to me! And I was mighty civil to several of the old curmudgeons, too, but all to no purpose. I might as well have let them see what I really thought of them. But so it is. One can never depend on anything in this world.”
“Then you’d best retire from it to a monastery, old fellow. Oh, very well, I meant but to cheer you up,” Lydney said hastily, seeing that his friend had taken offence. “Come, forget about your troubles for a while. I’ll take you to a capital place this evening — cards, wine and women, if you’re so minded.”
There had never been any strong bond of affection between these two, and by now Lydney was thoroughly tired of his friend’s problems. He had come to Brighton to be entertained, not to listen to such sorry stuff as this; neither did he intend to involve himself to any troublesome degree in the other’s affairs. Shaldon had made a fool of himself, and he must take the consequences; the more he whined, the more Lydney despised him.
Neville understood quite well what the other young man’s reactions were, but he also knew that he could rely on Lydney not to betray his confidence. And since he had a strong need to confide in someone, there was no one more suitable. When he thought the matter over, there was no one else at all. Fear of his father had early engendered in him a habit of keeping his own counsel. Even Dorinda knew only as much about him as he judged it safe for her to know at present. She was still unaware of his title or the whereabouts of his home.
He left Brighton on the following day for Alvington, sleeping one night on the road. He arrived at the Hall in the afternoon of the second day to find his father in an unexpectedly jovial mood.
“Put in an appearance at just the right time,” the Earl said, after the first greetings were over. “The Cottesford gal’s been away from home, too, on a tour of the Lakes with some relatives or other. Returned two days ago. You can look in at the Manor tomorrow, see how she’s managed in your absence, eh? Reuniting of the lovers — affecting, what?”
He laughed heartily, but Neville could manage only a sickly grin. Now that he was face to face again with his father, he began to doubt that he would ever find the courage to reveal his secret.
Maria had been glad to avail herself of an opportunity to escape from home for a while. The house seemed all at once too quiet, the neighbourhood flat, her friends and acquaintances lacking in stimulation. She tried to tell herself that she was out of spirits because she needed a change of air; but in her heart she knew very well that there had been nothing amiss with the air of her native countryside until Viscount Shaldon had left it for Brighton.
She entered enthusiastically into a tour of the Lake District in the company of one of her favourite Aunts and that lady’s family. Nature always exercised a beneficial effect on Maria’s spirits. The bold austerity of the peaks, the rich green valleys with their gentler landscape and the wide expanse of the lakes offered scenic contrasts to match every changing mood and to remind the onlooker that this alone was enduring, that all anxieties must in time pass away.
She recovered much of her usual tranquillity, returning home with a cheerful countenance which was so suntanned that Lady Cottesford
threw up her hands in despair at the sight of it.
“La, my dear, it’s a monstrous pity that your Aunt Selina should not have warned you against going out in the sun without your parasol! You are as brown as a gypsy! What’s to be done? We must try some lemon juice, or Denmark lotion. It will never do to let Viscount Shaldon see you looking like that!”
“Fustian,” said Sir William, inspecting his daughter with a loving eye. “I think she looks charmingly. The tan gives some colour to her cheeks.”
This was true. In general, Maria’s skin was inclined to be sallow, but sun and fresh air had combined to give it an attractive golden glow which enhanced the brightness of her hazel eyes.
“Thank you, Papa. I can always count on you to make the best of me,” Maria replied, laughing. “But truly, Mama, I don’t think Viscount Shaldon will notice, one way or the other.”
She was right, of course. When Neville called a day or two later, he was as charming and attentive as before; but more than ever, she felt that there was no heart in his performance. As the weeks wore on and they met at frequent intervals, she became more and more convinced of this. It was plain that the proposed marriage would be one of convenience.
By now she was certain of her own feelings and wondered what it was best to do. Could there be any hope of happiness in a match of unequal affection? Sometimes she took comfort in the thought that Viscount Shaldon could not have a fixed preference for any other female, or he would not consent to woo her, even to please his father. If that were so, then there was still hope that she might teach him to love her.
So she set herself to try and win his regard. She dressed with more care than before, studying the fashion plates in Lady’s Magazine, or Elegant and Entertaining Companion for the Fair Sex and choosing those designs which she thought most becoming to be made up for her by her dressmaker. She washed her hair in rainwater and brushed it vigorously in a vain attempt to give it a sheen, and she even went so far as to add a light touch of rouge to her lips and cheeks. She was a naturally lively talker, taking an interest in all the foremost topics of the day; but now she tried to steer the conversation away from subjects which seemed to bore him, concentrating instead upon anything, however trivial, which appeared to arouse his interest.
A Regency Scandal Page 5