The Foundling

by Georgette Heyer

  ‘No, that he will not!’ declared Tom, revolted.

  ‘Why not?’ asked Belinda, opening her eyes at him.

  ‘He is not such a gudgeon as to be thinking of marrying, like a stupid girl!’ Tom said contemptuously.

  The Duke intervened rather hastily. ‘Now, Belinda, you know you don’t want to marry me!’ he said. ‘You want to marry Mr Mudgley!’

  ‘Yes, I do,’ agreed Belinda, her eyes filling. ‘But Uncle Swithin took me away from him, and Mr Ware did not marry me either, so what is to become of me?’

  ‘You will go with Lady Harriet, and be a good girl, while I try to find Mr Mudgley.’

  Belinda’s tears ceased to flow. She looked very much awed, and asked: ‘Is she a lady, sir?’

  ‘Of course she is a – Oh, I see! Yes, she is Lady Harriet Presteigne, and she will be very kind to you, and if you do as she bids you she will not let Mrs Pilling send you to prison. And what is more,’ he added, perceiving that she still seemed unconvinced, ‘she is going to fetch you in a very genteel carriage! In fact, a lozenge-carriage!’

  ‘What is that?’ asked Belinda.

  ‘The crest on the panel – a widow’s crest.’

  ‘I shall drive in a carriage with a crest on the panel?’ Belinda said, gazing at him incredulously.

  ‘Yes, indeed you will,’ he assured her.

  Tom gave a guffaw. ‘Stupid thing! He’s bamming you!’

  Her face fell. The Duke said: ‘No, I am not. Tom, if you cannot be quiet, go away!’

  ‘Well, I shall. I shall go out to see the sights. Oh, Mr Rufford, there are some famous shops here! The waiter told me! Would you be so very obliging as to lend me some money – only a very little! – and I swear I will not get into a scrape, or do the least thing you would not like!’

  The Duke opened his sadly depleted purse. ‘It must be no more than a guinea, Tom, for buy some cravats I must, and I am pretty well run off my legs.’

  ‘What a lark!’ exclaimed Tom. ‘Won’t you be able to pay our shot, sir? But Pa will do so, you know!’

  The Duke handed him a gold coin. ‘I trust it will not come to that. There! Be off, and pray do not purchase anything dreadful!’

  Tom promised readily not to do so, thanked him, and lost no time in sallying forth. The Duke then persuaded Belinda to pack her bandboxes, and went out to send his express to Mr Mamble. By the time he had accomplished this, and returned to the Pelican, Belinda had finished her task, and was indulging in a bout of tears. He strove to reassure her, but it transpired that she was not weeping over their approaching separation, but because she had been gazing out of the window, and Walcot Street, which she knew well, put her so forcibly in mind of Mr Mudgley that she now wished very much that she had never left Bath.

  ‘Well, never mind!’ said the Duke encouragingly. ‘You have come back, after all!’

  ‘Yes, but I am afraid that perhaps Mr Mudgley will be cross with me for having gone away with Uncle Swithin,’ said Belinda, her lip trembling.

  The Duke had for some time thought this more than possible, and could only hope that the injured swain would be melted by the sight of Belinda’s beauty. He did not say so to Belinda, naturally, but applied himself to the task of giving her thoughts a more cheerful direction. In this he was so successful that by the time Lady Ampleforth’s barouche set Harriet down at the inn, the tears were dried, and she was once more wreathed in smiles.

  Having seen the carriage from the window, the Duke left Belinda to put on her bonnet, and ran down to meet his betrothed. She was looking much prettier, he thought, than on the previous evening. There was quite a colour in her cheeks, and she was wearing a very becoming hat of chip-straw, trimmed with lace and rosebuds. She gave him her hand, encased in a glove of lavender kid, and said with a mischievous smile: ‘Grandmama was excessively diverted. She would have come with me, I do believe, if she could have done so. But she does not go out very much now, and never before noon. And I must tell you, Gilly, that I thought it best not to tell Charlie that you had come to Bath, for I am sure he would roast you dreadfully if he knew the whole! Then, too, although he is the dearest of brothers, he could never keep a secret, you know.’

  ‘You are very right!’ he said. ‘I had not thought of it, but I foresee that I must spend my time dodging any acquaintances whom I may see until Nettlebed makes me respectable again. Will you come upstairs? Belinda is waiting for you in the parlour. I must warn you that she is a little afraid of you, and fears you may be cross!’

  ‘Afraid of me?’ Harriet said, surprised. ‘Oh, I am sure no one ever was!’

  ‘I am sure she will not be when she has seen you,’ he returned, handing her up the stairs.

  He ushered her into the parlour, saying: ‘Here is Lady Harriet come to fetch you, Belinda!’

  The two ladies stood for a moment, staring at one another, Belinda in childlike curiosity, Harriet blinking as though she had been dazzled. She had expected to be confronted by a beauty, but she had formed no very definite picture of Belinda from the descriptions afforded her, and was unprepared for such a radiant vision. She knew a pang, for it seemed to her incredible that the Duke should not have fallen a victim to Belinda’s charms. She could not forbear stealing a wondering glance at him. She found that he was looking at her, and not at Belinda, an enquiring lift to his brows. She blushed, and stepped forward, saying in her soft voice: ‘How do you do? I am so glad I am to have the pleasure of your company for a while! I hope you will be comfortable with me.’

  ‘Oh, yes, thank you!’ said Belinda dutifully, curtsying. ‘But I do not like hemming handkerchiefs, if you please.’

  ‘No, indeed! It is the most tedious thing,’ agreed Harriet, her eyes twinkling.

  Belinda began to look more cheerful, but it was plain that she was not entirely reconciled to the prospect of staying in Laura Place, for she asked: ‘Shall you keep me for a very long time, ma’am?’

  ‘Oh, no, only until the Duke has found Mr Mudgley!’ said Harriet, guessing that this was the assurance most likely to be welcome.

  Belinda looked bewildered. ‘But I don’t know any Dukes!’ she objected. ‘I thought Mr Rufford would find Mr Mudgley for me. You said you would, sir!’

  ‘Oh, dear, I beg your pardon, Gilly!’ Harriet said, in a good deal of confusion. ‘I thought – I meant to say Mr Rufford, Belinda!’

  ‘But he is not a Duke!’ exclaimed Belinda, quite shocked.

  Looking quite as guilty as Harriet, Gilly said: ‘Well, yes, Belinda, as it chances I am a Duke! I had meant to have told you, but it went out of my head. It doesn’t signify, you know.’

  Belinda gazed at him, an expression in her face of mingled incredulity and disappointment. ‘Oh, no, I am sure it is a hum!’ she exclaimed. ‘You are teasing me, sir! As though I did not know a Duke would be a much grander person!’

  Harriet said in a stifled voice: ‘He – he is very grand when he wears his robes, I assure you!’

  ‘Well!’ Belinda said, quite disillusioned. ‘I thought a Duke would be very tall, and handsome, and stately! I was never so taken-in!’

  The Duke bowed his head in his hands. ‘Oh, Belinda, Belinda!’ he said. ‘Indeed, I am very sorry: I only wish I may not have destroyed your faith in Dukes!’

  ‘But do you wear a coronet, and a purple robe?’ asked Belinda.

  ‘No, no, only one of scarlet cloth!’

  ‘Cloth! The shabbiest thing!’ she cried. ‘I thought you would have worn a velvet one!’

  ‘Ah, but it was lined with white taffeta and doubled with four guards of ermine!’ he said gravely.

  ‘Gilly, don’t be so provoking to the poor child!’ said Harriet, controlling a quivering lip. ‘You know that was only your parliamentary dress! I am sure you have a crimson velvet mantle for state occasions, for I know Papa does. Don’t loo
k so sad, Belinda! Indeed, it is a very grand dress, and I will show you a picture of it presently, in a book belonging to my grandmama.’

  ‘I should like to see it,’ said Belinda wistfully. ‘And of course, if you are truly a Duke, sir, no wonder you do not wish to marry me, if you cannot find Mr Mudgley! It would not do at all, for whoever heard of a Duke marrying a foundling? It would be the most shocking thing!’

  He said gently: ‘I am sure it would be a very lucky Duke who did so, Belinda, but, you see, I am already betrothed to Lady Harriet.’

  She was quite diverted by this, and after exclaiming at it, and looking speculatively from him to Harriet, politely wished them both very happy. The information seemed in some way to reconcile her to her immediate fate, and she went away presently with Harriet perfectly complacently.

  She much enjoyed the experience of driving in a barouche, and a tactful suggestion from her hostess that they might go shopping together in the afternoon made her clasp her hands tightly together, and utter in palpitating accents: ‘Oh, ma’am, do you mean it? In the modish shops on Milsom Street? I should like it above anything great!’

  ‘Then of course we will go,’ Harriet said, her kind heart touched. This promise had the effect of casting Belinda into a beatific dream. Visions of silken raiment floated before her eyes, and brought into her flower-like countenance so angelic an expression that several passers-by stared at her in patent admiration, and Lord Gaywood, sauntering down the steps of Lady Ampleforth’s house just as the barouche drew up there, stood rooted to the spot, his jaw dropping, and his eyes fairly starting from his head.

  In her desire to be of assistance to the Duke, Harriet had not paused to consider what would be the effect upon her susceptible brother of Belinda’s charms, but when she saw him apparently stunned by them she felt a little dismay stir in her breast. She said, as she alighted from the carriage: ‘Charlie, this is a friend of mine, who is coming to stay with me for a few days. My dear, it is my brother, Lord Gaywood.’

  Lord Gaywood recovered himself sufficiently to make his bow. Belinda said, with a happy smile: ‘Only fancy! Now I have met a Duke and a lord! I daresay they would never believe it at the Foundling Hospital, for I am sure such a thing never happened to any of the others!’

  His lordship was considerably taken aback by this artless speech, but he was not one to worry over trifles, and he responded gallantly: ‘I am excessively glad to make your acquaintance, Miss – er – Miss?’ He rolled a fiercely enquiring eye at his sister, and was astonished to perceive that her face had become suffused with blushes.

  ‘Oh, I am not Miss anything!’ said Belinda, not in the least discomposed. ‘I am Belinda. I haven’t any parents, you know, so I have no name.’

  Lord Gaywood swallowed once or twice, but soon pulled himself together. ‘Belinda is the prettiest name I ever heard!’ he declared. ‘Allow me to offer you my arm up the steps!’ He added out of one corner of his mouth: ‘Does the old lady know of this?’

  ‘Yes, of course! Pray hush!’ whispered Harriet, red to the roots of her hair.

  ‘Well, if it don’t beat all!’ he ejaculated.

  ‘What does?’ enquired Belinda, looking up at him innocently.

  ‘Why, you, of course!’ he responded, without hesitation. ‘Dash it, you beat ’em all to flinders! Why haven’t I seen you before? You can’t have been in Bath for long, I’ll swear!’

  ‘Oh, no! Mr Rufford brought me here yesterday!’ she told him.

  ‘Mr Rufford? Who’s he?’ demanded his lordship.

  ‘Charlie, pray do not!’ Harriet begged, in a good deal of distress. ‘You should not ask such impertinent questions! You know you should not!’

  ‘I was forgetting,’ explained Belinda. ‘He said he was Mr Rufford, but all the time he was a Duke. And now I don’t know what his name is, for I was so surprised I never asked him! Oh, ma’am, do please tell me!’

  ‘What?’ gasped Lord Gaywood, stopping dead upon the top step. ‘Harriet, what in thunder – ?’

  ‘Gaywood, I beg you will be quiet!’ Harriet said. ‘I will explain it presently! Belinda, I will take you up to the bedchamber that has been made ready for you, and you will like to take your bonnet off, I daresay, and your pelisse. And then you must make your curtsy to my grandmama.’

  ‘Harriet!’ said his lordship, in martial accents, ‘I order you to come downstairs again, and talk to me!’

  ‘Yes, yes, I will do so directly!’ promised his harassed sister, propelling Belinda towards the stairs.

  When she came down again some few minutes later, she found Lord Gaywood awaiting her in the doorway of the book-room. He promptly seized her by the hand, and led her in, saying: ‘Harriet, tell me this! Is that out-and-out beauty the game-pullet Sale had with him at Hitchin, or is she not?’

  Harriet replied with a good deal of dignity: ‘Pray do not pull me about so, Gaywood! I don’t know what a game-pullet is, and I am sure I don’t want to, for it sounds to me a horridly vulgar expression!’

  ‘It’s precisely what you think it is, so don’t be missish!’ retorted his lordship.

  ‘Well, you should not say such things to me. And she is not!’

  ‘Then who is this Duke who calls himself Rufford?’ demanded Gaywood. ‘Now I come to think of it, Rufford’s that place of Gilly’s in Yorkshire! Well, by God, this is a new come-out for him! And all the time bamboozling everyone –’

  ‘He did not!’ she said hotly. ‘You are quite, quite mistaken! He has behaved in the noblest way!’

  ‘Harry!’ he exploded. ‘How can you be such a fool as to let him pitch his gammon to you? Didn’t that old cat tell us how she saw him with a girl hanging on his arm, in the most –’

  ‘Yes! And it was you who said, Charlie, that you did not believe a word of it, because she was for ever cutting up characters!’

  ‘Well, I didn’t believe it,’ he admitted. ‘But if that’s the little ladybird, I do now!’

  ‘It is untrue!’ Harriet said. ‘He rescued her from a very awkward situation, and because she is an orphan, and has nowhere to go, he brought her to me!’

  ‘Well, of all the brass-faced things to do!’ exclaimed Gaywood. ‘When I see Sale – Where is he?’

  ‘He is in Bath, but – but he is very much occupied at the present. You will see him presently, I daresay, but if you mean to insult him, Charlie, I shall never, never forgive you!’

  These terrible words from his gentle sister quite astonished the Viscount. He looked at her in some concern, and said that he did not know what had come over her. ‘Of course, you’re such a silly little creature, Harry, that you will believe any bubble,’ he said kindly. ‘Mind you, there’s no harm in Sale’s having a mistress in keeping, but to be flaunting her about Bath, and having the dashed impudence to cajole you into giving her countenance is coming it rather too strong, and so I shall tell him!’

  ‘Very well, Gaywood!’ said Harriet, with determined calm. ‘If you are set on making a great goose of yourself, you must do so! Perhaps you will tell him as well that you do not like his flaunting a schoolboy about Bath either!’

  ‘What schoolboy?’ demanded Gaywood.

  She was obliged to divulge some part of the Duke’s adventures. Fortunately, Gaywood was so much entertained by a description of Tom’s behaviour that she was able to gloss over Belinda’s part in the story. She was grieved to think that she had exposed the Duke to her brother’s ridicule, but she knew the erratic Viscount well enough to feel tolerably sure that amusement would effectually banish righteous indignation from his mind.

  The Duke, meanwhile, had sallied forth to buy himself some neckcloths and handkerchiefs. He was careful to avoid the fashionable quarter of the town, and had therefore the greatest difficulty in finding any neckcloths which Nettlebed would not instantly have given away to an under-footman. On his retu
rn to the Pelican he ran into Tom, who said that he had spent all his money, and was hungry. The Duke took him off to a pastry-cook’s shop, where, as it was a good three hours since he had partaken of a breakfast consisting of ham, eggs, about half a sirloin of cold beef, and a loaf of bread, he was able to do justice to a meat-pie, several jam-puffs, and a syllabub. Tom was inclined to think poorly of Bath, which city offered few attractions to a young gentleman of his tastes. He said, with a wistful gleam in his eye, that it would enliven the town to put aniseed on the hooves of some of the fat carriage-horses he had seen in Milsom Street, but added virtuously that he had refrained from purchasing any of this useful commodity, his intuition having warned him that putting aniseed on horses’ hooves was a pastime of which his protector would not approve. The Duke assured him that his instinct had not misled him, and rewarded him for his saintly conduct by giving him sixpence, and sending him off to the Sydney Gardens, with a promise that he would find there bowling-greens, grottoes, labyrinths, and Merlin swings. He set him on his way, accompanying him as far as to Argyle Buildings, and watching him traverse Laura Place towards Great Pulteney Street; and then turned with the intention of walking down Bridge Street. But just as he had crossed the river again, he caught sight of a lady who looked alarmingly like one of his aunt’s friends, and he promptly dived down a side-street. A very large gentleman who, with two companions, had been observing him narrowly, ejaculated: ‘That’s the scoundrel, you mark my words! A little dab of a man in an olive-green coat! After him, now!’

  The Duke, having removed himself from the vicinity of his aunt’s acquaintance, saw no need for haste, and was walking sedately along the narrow street. The sound of heavy-footed and somewhat hard-breathing pursuit made him turn his head, but as he did not recognise any of the three persons thudding behind him he did not connect their chase with himself, but merely looked rather surprised, and stepped aside to allow them to pass him. The foremost of them, whom he perceived to be a constable, reached him first, and shot out a hand, ejaculating: ‘Halt! Name of Rufford?’