by Joan Smith
"The church minister, idiot."
"Oh, that minister."
"Yes, I know you'd rather be quartered with hot knives than visit a church, heathen."
"I have nothing against church, except that folks too often feel they have done their Christian duty once they have gone, and forget to practice what is preached."
After a little more chatter, he asked, "Shall I take you around to Almack's tonight? Should be a lively do, with Prinney back in town. Lots of new rumors to pick up."
"I'm not sure yet whether I shall go," she answered hesitantly.
"Aldred will not have had time to get a decent black jacket and knee breeches made up in one afternoon," he pointed out, with neither rancor nor offense. "Of course you will go. What you mean is that you are not sure you want my escort. I can take a hint, but you'll be sorry when you see me waltzing Lady Susan Glenn round," he warned, wagging a long, shapely finger at her.
"Lady Susan again!" she said, lifting her brows. "This becomes serious. You danced with her once last season, if memory serves." This was a facetious reference to Eskott's habit of dallying with all the ladies, while not encouraging any of them to the extent of a serious flirtation.
"Also the season before," he added.
"Yes, she has been on the town rather a long time, has she not?"
"Ages, nearly half as long as yourself, Maddie," he riposted.
"Wretch!" she laughed good-naturedly. "I am a confirmed ape leader. Pray do not put me in the same youthful category as the Lady Susans of the world."
"Is it impossible to bestir you to anger?" he asked lazily, with a rueful shake of the head.
"Not in the least. You can always infuriate me by implying I am trying to make a match with my protégés. Robbing the cradle, in fact."
"A very meager cradle too, for the wealthy Lady Madeline," he pointed out. "If you plan to rob a cradle, you might at least make a pass at Devonshire, or one of the other ducal cradles."
"That pup! He isn't a duke yet either, but only a marquess."
"Only a marquess, eh? That puts me in my place. What are you hanging out for then, a royal prince?"
"I am not hanging out for a husband at all. I have refused several excellent offers, as you well know."
"You keep reminding me of the fact. It has not wholly slipped my memory that one of the better offers was from myself."
"You are the one who brings it up. I don't know how it is we always end up discussing my marriage, when you really come here to pick my brains to see what I have learned from Papa."
"There must be some reason for it, I suppose," he replied reasonably.
Before he could say more, Lady Madeline diverted him with a completely new topic. "Where do you have your jackets made up, Eskott?"
"Weston. But he is too expensive for your country cousin," he told her with a sneering smile.
"Nonsense. No price is too high for such a well-fitted jacket."
"Better send him along then, or he'll discover Stutz, and have even more wadding stuffed into his shoulders than he already has. It is your intention to turn the sow's ear into a silken purse, is it?"
"Why yes, I am a famous magician in that respect. I usually perform one such miracle every season."
"You might pass your magic wand over his manners while you are about it."
"I come to think you could use a touch of it yourself. You are not usually so high in the instep, condemning a man for so little reason."
"If we can find nothing more interesting than Aldred to discuss, I shall take my leave and try my luck with Lady Holland instead. Good day, ma'am."
"Oh, Eskott, would you mind very much dropping my books off at the circulating library?" she said as he arose. "I am staying home today, in case of a note from Papa."
"A pleasure and a privilege, Maddie. Could I deliver any messages for you while I am about it? Polish your boots, fill you a tub for bathing? Groom your mount?"
"Thank you, dear Eskott. They are on the table in the hall. Evans will give them to you. Save me a dance if I go to Almack's." She wiggled her fingers at him and laughed.
A reluctant smile settled slowly on his lips as he stood looking at her. "There is not another lady in London who treats me so shabbily as you do. One of these days, milady, you shall pay the piper," he said with mock menace.
"How much do I owe you? Don't be shy to present your bill."
"Thirty thousand pounds," he answered cryptically.
She could make nothing of it, till she remembered it was the sum of her dowry. She wasted very little time thinking about it, for she had a lengthy list to make up if she was to transform her cousin into a buck of the first water.
Eskott had long since stopped being a suitor in her mind, and become a good friend. The offer of marriage, still occasionally mentioned, had occurred in her first season. At eighteen, she had been aware of the glory of having attached such a prime parti without feeling the least desire to become his wife. Not wishing to lose his friendship, she had couched the refusal in polite but unencouraging terms.
It had been accepted with no evidence of hard feeling or heartbreak on the gentleman's part. They continued to frequent the same parties, standing up together for a dance, meeting several times a week at one do or another. About three years later, they began going out occasionally for a drive or visit together, as friends, and no more. His calls at the Second Court of St. James had resumed that year, and had increased in frequency since, but there was little gallantry in him. The intimacy between them had become something like a familial affection.
Madeline was never seen to bat her eyes at him over a fan, to either glare or poker up or increase her attentions to another beau on those frequent occasions when he escorted other ladies about town or took up with a new dasher. She had long since taken to herself the matron's privilege of teasing all the gentlemen about their chéres amies. Eskott was roasted along with the rest, with the same frank jocularity and good nature.
No formality lingered. If she needed an escort, she asked him to accompany her. If he could not comply, she was not at all put out. She used him to perform errands and small jobs for her, but was equally helpful in relieving him of certain duties that were unpalatable or impossible for a bachelor. She quite often made up his guest lists for balls or parties, advised him how best to amuse visiting maiden relatives, or amused them for him if he was too busy. It was a very agreeable friendship, which she had not the least intention of losing, or changing in any way. She would sorely miss Eskott if he dropped her, but that was not even remotely likely in her view.
She returned to her desk and drew out a clean sheet of paper. She inscribed Henry's name at the top, and began listing his requirements:
1. Suitable residence (cheap)
2. Toilette—jackets, evening clothes, gloves (see Taffy Barker)
3. Clubs—non-gambling
4. Transportation.
Did he have a decent mount, carriage, money to provide them if he had not? She soon realized that Henry's largest need was for money to provide these necessities.
As she began listing possibilities, she remembered Captain Hopper, and completed the note to Robert Dundas. She stuck it beneath the list, and forgot it. A new protégé often had this effect of making her forget trivialities, and even of shrinking duties assumed to the inconsequence of trivialities, in her mind.
* * *
Chapter 4
The meetings and rumors of a new government continued over the next week, but as nothing definite was accomplished, Lady Madeline was free to begin her transformation of Mr. Henry Aldred. Lord Eskott, who ran into him more than once on St. James's Street, cast a blighting stare on the young man, and was at pains to make him look uninformed, which was not difficult in those early days.
Aldred had been accompanied by Taffy Barker when he appeared at Lady Madeline's door for his second meeting. Barker was a town beau whose sole accomplishment was that he was "up to all the rigs," in a socia
l sense. He had not managed to squander the fortune left him by his father, nor to alienate the large circle of friends his mother's predominant social position entitled him to. He went to all the right parties, and a good many of the wrong ones. He drove a snappy yellow curricle harnessed up to a prize pair of grays; he was turned out by Weston, belonged to the best clubs, and was accepted everywhere.
That was about the sum and total of his life. He was tall, painfully thin, and noticeably ugly, with a face as narrow as a razor blade. What he admired most in other people was a handsome appearance. With such lax requirements in his giving of friendship, he was frequently taken advantage of. Lady Madeline had every intention of imposing on his good nature to help her turn Henry out in style.
"Lady Madeline, always a pleasure," he said as he entered her saloon.
He was greeted with no more than a fleeting smile. The lady's interest was on her cousin. How handsome he looked beside Taffy! Better than she had remembered. And how poorly outfitted! Worse than she remembered.
"How are you enjoying your visit, Cousin?" she inquired, pointing to a pair of chairs facing her.
"Very much indeed. Taffy is showing me the sights. We took in a visit to Jackson's Boxing Parlour yesterday afternoon, and a play last night. We have just come from the Daffy Club—a famous place for members of the Fancy."
She nodded, having no interest in these things, but only in getting on with his lessons. Taffy felt obliged to inquire for Lord Fordwich and a few of Madeline's relatives, which prompted her to ask for the health of his mother and sister. This done, she got down to business. Had Aldred given any thought to her suggestion in the matter of his career? Indeed he was greatly interested, but could not like to impose on her good nature, and her time.
"Not just her good nature. Lady Madeline's hobby horse," Taffy mentioned. "Be a jolly good thing for you, Henry. The makings of you. Lady Madeline's fellows always advance on the double."
Henry looked interested enough that she continued. "The first item of business will be to find you suitable lodgings."
"Welcome to stay with me," Taffy offered.
"You are very kind," Madeline said, "but it will not do in the long run. Your mama and sister will not like to have a permanent house guest who is no kin or connection to the family."
"Mama won't mind. Mary will be delighted." Mary, who bore a strong physical resemblance to her brother, never minded having a gentleman forced into her orbit.
"Mr. Aldred will require privacy for his work," Madeline said to put an end to this scheme. "Now about an apartment? I think the Albany, don't you. Taffy?"
"Only place for bachelors," he agreed. "Top of the trees. Good handy location. Not dear either."
"Do you happen to know if there are any vacancies?" she inquired, despite an air of dissatisfaction that rested on Henry's features.
"Happens I do. Bricklin flew the coop two days ago. Owed a quarter's back rent. In the basket. Left his belongings there. Seized by the bailiff for rent. Be happy to rent the place furnished. Nice stuff too: Sheraton set of chairs, marble-topped commode, good mahogany writing table. Dashed hard bed—could put a feather tick on it. Do the whole thing up brown for a monkey."
"Excellent," Madeline said. "You must go there today and hire the place, Cousin."
"I am not accustomed to living in hired rooms," Mr. Aldred exclaimed. "I would much prefer to rent a cottage."
"Too steep," Taffy told him.
"A shabby little cottage is not at all the thing for you," Madeline agreed. "Better a little elegance than a lot of squalor."
"I shall be having company. My mother plans to visit me, and also friends from home. A small flat will not do at all."
"The address is very important," Madeline explained. "The Albany is so well located, right at Piccadilly."
"Have a look at least," Taffy urged.
"All right, I'll look, but I favor a private house," Aldred said after repeated urgings from his two mentors.
The next step was more difficult to accomplish. It is no easy thing to tell a gentleman his clothing is rustic. When he is clearly halfway up into the boughs already, a certain degree of discretion is necessary. "What a handsome jacket you are wearing, Taffy," she began judiciously.
Taffy opened his lips and smiled in pleasure. "Never put myself in any hands but Weston's," he admitted.
"He is the only tailor favored by the ton, I believe," she said casually. "There is no matching him."
Henry was by no means so slow as to overlook her meaning. "I suppose I ought to visit him, if I am to rub shoulders with the sort of people you have been speaking of," he said, much to her delight.
"Suit yourself," was her mild encouragement. "I must say, if I had such a fine figure, I would wish to show it off to best advantage."
In this flattering and insinuating manner, the conversation continued. Taffy extolled the virtue of Hoby as bootmaker. "A man daren't be shod by anyone else. The king, the prince regent, Duke of Kent, Wellington. Top of St. James's Street, next to the old Guards Club. I'll introduce you. Baxter is your man for curled beavers."
He also suggested where shirts and cravats and other necessities could be obtained. "I daresay it will cost me a small fortune," Henry objected.
"No, a large one," Taffy countered.
"It need not be paid for all at once," Madeline pointed out.
"Put 'em on tic," was Taffy's more straightforward advice. "No one pays cash on delivery. I'll let 'em know you're to be trusted. Mind, you must put a little something on account from time to time. Another thing, if you mean to cut a swath in society, you'll need a new carriage."
"All this can't be necessary only to get a position!" Henry objected. "I must draw the line somewhere. My little whiskey is good enough."
A belligerent set to his chin told his mentoress she had accomplished enough for one day. He would soon see for himself, as he went about with a more elevated, citified crowd, that a whiskey was not at all good enough, and for the meanwhile, it was her own landau that would take them for drives in the park, and her father's carriage that would deliver them to balls and plays and the opera. She did not mean to disdain the social gatherings by any means. They were her main means of meeting the right people, or letting the right people meet her current protégé at least.
"What sort of work do you have in mind for me, Cousin?" Aldred asked.
"I must know you better before I decide. What is your strength? Writing letters, meeting and dealing with people on a personal basis, organizing affairs, studying a project and writing a report? If it is the foreign service that interests you, then I must know what languages you speak."
"Only English, with of course Latin and Greek, but that is of no account. My French is indifferent. I understand it, but speak it poorly. I write business and facts well enough, but am not at all poetical."
"There is very little poetry in the sort of writing I speak of," she informed him.
"I get along pretty well with most folks," he added, after a little further considering.
"Best-liked fellow at Christ Church," Taffy augmented.
"That is high praise indeed!" Madeline exclaimed. "Perhaps it is some position dealing with the public that would best suit you."
"I would prefer that to sitting alone writing up reports," he said with great feeling.
"I must introduce you to some of the upper echelon of the party, and see how you get on with them. I'll brief you first as to their little idiosyncrasies, and their particular areas of interest," she offered. "I'll discover from Papa which of the members are short-staffed as well. I expect you will want a position immediately, as money is tight. The first job need not be the last, remember. What are you doing tonight, Taffy?" she asked, turning to include the other caller in the conversation.
When he mentioned a snug little dinner at one of his clubs, followed by a hand of cards, she took the opportunity to caution Henry against heavy gambling. "There is no worry there," he reassured her. "
Gambling does not run in our family."
On the whole, she was satisfied with the visit. Henry was definitely not so biddable as her other protégés, but this only made her job more of a challenge. When the gentlemen returned properly outfitted for going into her sort of society, she would drop Taffy and take Henry firmly under her own wing.
Beyond her door, one of the callers was less than satisfied. "She's a demmed managing female," Aldred said with a scowl.
"Most managing female in London," Taffy agreed readily. "The most competent to manage, too," he added. "Her fellows always get advanced on the double. Told you so. She'll have you a minister before the decade is out. Stick with a winner, Henry."
Henry regarded him, frowning. "I am not averse to getting some new jackets. I need them in any case, but I'll be a monkey if I'll hire rooms at the Albany just because Lady Madeline Morash says so."
"Shall we have a look all the same, to satisfy her?" Taffy asked.
"We might as well have a look, but I don't mean to dance to her tune."
The suite lately vacated by Mr. Bricklin, when it was examined, proved so nicely got up, so really convenient considering its small size and price, so close to what was likely to be Aldred's place of work, that in the end it seemed foolish not to take it.
"The money I save will be more than enough to put Mama and... and any visitors I may have up at a hotel when they come," he pointed out to Taffy.
"Yes, by Jove," Taffy agreed. "Foolish to have a whole house standing idle, when Agnes won't be spending more than two weeks in London, if she comes at all."
"It is not Agnes I am worried about. It is Mama," Aldred insisted.
"Certainly your mama must chaperone her. No one else. Mean to say, can't have a young lady hopping about London with you unchaperoned. Hasn't any mother of her own. Old Uncle Leadbeater could come with her, but he is too old to relish the trip. Besides, he don't favor your suit. Doubt he'll let her come at all. Really no point hiring a house."
"Leadbeater has no objection to myself. It is only my lack of a fortune or position that he dislikes. If my cousin can help me find a lucrative post, then there will be no objection to the match, I fancy."