by Joan Smith
“Oh no! We would rather eat here, would we not, Doris?” I implored.
“I was looking forward to a hotel dining room, but a lord’s table is even better. You will like it, Olivia. You are always fond of meeting with your high friends.”
“No, really! We are very fagged from the trip. I would prefer to stay here.” I was suddenly struck with inspiration. I would stay behind, and let the others go.
Before I could. broach this plan, however, Papa went on with another piece of information that made me less reluctant to go to Russell Square.
“I have already accepted, but if you are really knocked up, I’ll send a note around to them. Their table will be nearly empty. Philmot could not accept an offer either. He had a party on at his own place, a dinner party, and had to dash off. You can discuss with Lady Synge whether you want to stay with her brother.”
“We could leave early,” Doris suggested, with a hopeful glance to see if I would not change my mind.
"I would like to see the girls,” I said. So long as there was no need to see Philmot, I did not in the least mind seeing the Synges either.
Without further ado, Papa went through the adjoining door to his room to make his toilette. Before long, Doris was called to help him tie his cravat.
The Synges made us welcome very civilly. Lord Synge even took me aside and made a sort of apology for his former brusque treatment of me. "Took your advice and got rid of those nags I had been stabling on the post roads. My bank account is the better for it. If Philmot don’t get your diamonds back, I want to make reparation for it. You have saved this family a deal of grief by giving us an excuse to turn Harmsworth off.”
"I would have done better to tell you about him before leaving, but could not like to disparage him till I was sure it was not all a misunderstanding. I had no idea Alice meant to have him.”
"Very proper of you. But then it comes as no surprise that Miss Fenwick behaves with propriety.”
It was as close to an apology as he meant to come, and closer than I either expected or deserved. “I was a great burden to you, Lord Synge,” I admitted with a rueful smile.
"Oh as to that, it is Philmot that has been a burden ever since you left. He has jawed our ears off to write and ask you back. I wonder why that would be, eh Miss Fenwick?” he asked with a meaningful wink.
“I expect he is having trouble to find another secretary and wants to hire me again. You can tell him for me I am not interested. He made me work too hard. You and your wife were better employers.”
He chose to take this as a famous joke. When we went in to dinner he offered me his arm, though he ought by rights to have taken Doris. She went with Papa and Lady Synge. Alice was not at the table. After dinner, Lady Synge suggested I go up to see her and Dottie.
“I am ashamed to let Alice be seen in public, with her eyes as red as a ferret’s. You must talk some sense into her, Miss Fenwick. She always minded you.”
I heartily wished she had not minded me so well, especially my advice to accept Harmsworth. I knew I would not be welcome with Alice. Dottie, dear thing, broke right into sobs and threw herself on my breast. I confess a tear gathered in my own eye, to see her so moved, and so happy to see me. Alice was less ecstatic. She wore a sullen pout, with her eyes the shade described by her mama.
“I thought you would be smiling, to know you do not have to marry Harmsworth,” I said to cheer her.
It precipitated a fresh bout of sniffles, through which a disjointed story slowly emerged. Clearly her life was blighted if Captain Tierney could not learn she was not to marry her lord.
“He will learn it. It will be published no later than tomorrow. Your father has sent the notices to the papers.”
“Robbie still won’t ask me to marry him,” she said, her gulps diminishing.
“Why do you say so?”
“Oh Miss Fenwick, it is all your fault. If you had not told me I was too good for him, I would not have acted so horrid. He says I am spoiled, and not fit to—to be an officer’s wife, for I have not enough backbone. And now he is going to be a major!” she added, looking to see how the demanding governess was impressed with this promotion in his status.
I allowed myself to be greatly impressed, and soon to see a resemblance between his progress and that of the Duke of Wellington. She would clearly be a duchess within a twelvemonth.
“If he reads the papers and finds out I am not to marry Harmsworth,” she added, with a fresh trickle out of the corner of her eyes.
"Well now, it seems to me an officer’s wife ought not to cry like a baby. Someone is bound to tell him.” I said no more till I discovered whether the parents were still opposed to the match.
I had the pleasure of seeing her sniffles stop, and her shoulders straighten up before turning to my more agreeable charge, Dottie, to hear how she was keeping up her reading program without me. I stayed with them an hour, having to tear myself away to rejoin the adults below.
When I stepped onto the landing, Philmot was just being shown in. I felt a strong urge to turn on my heels and run back upstairs, but as he had fixed a challenging gray eye on me, I was forced to continue my descent.
Chapter Twenty-one
Philmot looked no happier at the encounter than myself. He wore a scowl, which cheered me insensibly. “Good evening, Philmot. In your customary high spirits, I see. You must have deserted your dinner party rather abruptly.”
"It's about time you showed up!” was his first remark, uttered in an angry voice.
“Had I realized Alice was favoring Harmsworth's suit I would have been here sooner.”
“I’m not talking about that!”
"Are you not? I should like to have a word with you about it all the same, before we join the others. I feel so culpable in the affair I wish to help Alice patch it up with her officer. Can you tell me something about him?”
“Is it possible you shared a roof with her for so long without learning about him?”
“I did not encourage her to speak about him to me. It was poorly done on my part. No need to tell me so.
What sort of a fellow is he?”
“A younger son of a younger son with no prospects but what he makes for himself in the army.”
“The army can provide a good career. He is to be made a major already."
“He’s bright and a worker. Hardly a connection to delight her parents.”
“I am sorry to hear it. I hoped for a happy ending. Is it out of the question entirely?”
“Alice has a reasonable dowry. The boy is of good family and character. The mood Synge is in, I think the latter is of considerable importance to him. Between us—Synge and myself I mean—we might advance his career.”
My hopes rose at this encouraging speech. “I hope he reads of the broken engagement in tomorrow’s papers then."
“I am surprised the thorough Miss Fenwick would leave it to chance. I sent a note over to headquarters several hours ago. If he is not here yet, I assume he is on night duty, and will be over at the crack of dawn, battering down the door. I expect between the pair of them they’ll wear down any resistance that still remains. Of more interest to me at the moment is this business of Harmsworth trotting off with your diamonds. Why did you not tell me?”
"It had nothing to do with you,” I said in a dismissing way, turning towards the saloon. I was detained by a hard grasp on the wrist.
"You were living under my roof at the time, and under my protection. I feel responsible.”
"I was with Synge when it happened.”
“You mentioned Squibbs’s place, if I am not mistaken.”
“Yes.”
“What was the date exactly?”
“The date is on the chit. It was shortly after I bought Lady Beaton’s carriage.”
The introduction of this name into our conversation had the effect of putting us both on our high ropes. We walked towards the saloon. We were soon parted to sit in two separate groups: the men on one side discussing the i
mportant and interesting matters, while the ladies listened politely and occasionally ventured a word.
There was no hoping for any rapport between Doris and Lady Synge. They might have been of two different species for all they had in common. I feared Papa must be similarly out of place with the men, and was surprised to see he was very much a part of that group. The younger gentlemen were consulting him, listening to his words with apparent interest. I noted in particular that Philmot treated him with not only respect, but deference.
It was not till the tea tray arrived that the two sexes got together. By then, our immediate fates had been decided. The Fenwick family was to spend a short time at Philmot’s home, while our host and Papa busied themselves to recover the necklace. I had a strong wish to dissuade Papa from accepting Philmot’s hospitality.
Philmot knew it too. He looked at me several times while it was outlined.
"I expect Doris would prefer to be downtown at the hotel, Papa, for shopping and so on,” I mentioned.
"My carriage will be at your disposal, Ma’am,” Philmot said to Doris.
This attention threw her into a tizzy. She blushed like a schoolgirl, while thanking him three or four times. Undismayed, he took up a position at her elbow. Anyone of the least sensitivity could see she was discomfited by his presence, his insistence on conversing with her. I could not understand why he had selected this least conversable member of the party for his particular companion.
For a good quarter of an hour they talked together, with Doris’s tongue finally loosening up to reveal God knows what intimate details of our life at Bath. The one speech I managed to overhear during a lull in Lady Synge’s inconsequential gossip was that “Livvie persuaded me to leave off the feathers.” No doubt he was keenly interested to hear this piece of information.
When we took our leave, it had been decided we would spend the night at the hotel, going to Philmot’s place in the morning. “They seem like good people,” was Papa’s opinion as we drove through the night. “Synge is not a deep man, nor a great reader, but young Philmot is certainly a man of parts."
Papa could have no notion one of those parts was pure lecher. What would he think if he ever discovered it? “He is very nice,” Doris seconded the opinion. “Easy to chat to. Not what I expected at all from the proud look of him. He recommended we try Lattimers for bonnets, Olivia.”
I tried for a few more details of their conversation, but concluded the sole topic had been sartorial.
Nine-thirty was an early hour to be landing in on our host the next morning, but when we had been up for two full hours, I could delay Papa no longer. “Philmot said we would get an early start,” he insisted. “He will have been waiting an hour. Drink up your coffee, do, Livvie.” I drank up my coffee.
Philmot was still sipping his when we arrived. He left a full cup on the table. Doris and I were turned over to the servants while the gentlemen went after Harmsworth. It was amusing to watch Doris’s head turn from side to side as we were led up to our rooms. I was just putting aside my bonnet when she knocked and came in. "There’s a servant in my room insisting she will unpack my bag!” she whispered in horrified accents.
“Let her. It is the custom in the homes of the mighty.”
“What will she think of my flannelette nightgown?”
“She will wish she had one half so fine, I expect.”
“Oh, and your papa’s small clothes all mended!” she replied.
“A shocking thing, for a servant to see mended clothing!”
“Easy for you. You are accustomed to this sort of thing. I am very uncomfortable here, but at least it
is not costing your papa anything.”
“You must own the rooms are finer than at the hotel, Doris,” I pointed out. Mine was also a good deal finer than the one given me when an employee, I noticed. My remark only served to make Doris put her fingers to her lips in her old annoying way. “Let us go downstairs and say how do you do to Philmot’s aunt.”
This proved to be the best idea I had throughout the entire trip. The two were cut from the same bolt. Miss Millichope was delighted to have a provincial to condescend to, and Doris able to cope with the condescension of a mind so similar to her own. She flushed with pleasure at Miss Millichope’s approval of her housekeeping chores, nodding with interest to hear she could save fifty percent by buying in bulk. Just what bulk could produce this enormous saving for a household of three people was not explained.
We chatted the morning away, lunched together, and were taken to Bond Street for an orgy of buying sewing pins and needles in bulk in the afternoon. After saving fifty percent of a half crown by this wise shopping, Doris was permitted to go to Lattimers to look at bonnets, which Miss Millichope told her were too expensive for a Dean’s wife.
“You would not want to give a bad example of peacockery to your parishioners,” she was told.
“Indeed no,” Doris agreed sadly.
While they came to this holy conclusion, I quietly ordered the bonnet to be delivered to me, and paid for it; Doris took a girlish and sinful pleasure in the stunt when I sneaked it into her room later.
“We will be dining at home this evening,” Miss Millichope informed us later. “Philmot has cancelled his engagements for the remainder of the week to be at your disposal. It was very kind of him,” she told Doris, who hardly knew what to say to such an announcement.
Her perfectly sincere “I wish he had not!” was accepted as polite gratitude.
Not only the Synges but Major Tierney as well came to Hanover Square to dine that evening. Alice was effulgent; there is no other word to describe the glow that shone in her eyes. The major was hardly less so. “We are to be married!” were the first words she spoke to me. “Only Mama says we must allow a decent time to elapse before it is announced, because of my other engagement. Isn’t it wonderful, Miss Fenwick?”
“I couldn’t be happier for you both!” I agreed, giving her a hug.
"You will love—like Robbie better when you come to know him, his many excellent qualities, even if he is not a lord,” she added.
Out of the mouth of this near-babe I heard how disgusting my old philosophy sounded. Her fiancé was still a trifle stiff with me, which did not detract an iota from my improved opinion of him.
Dottie was allowed to attend this small party, to celebrate her return to health. “Next year you may be congratulating me, and wishing me well, Miss Fenwick. I am to make my bows next season, since Alice has been bounced off this year.”
“Be sure to write and let me know all about your young man when the time comes,” I told her.
“We shall keep in touch regularly,” she promised.
My diamonds were not forgotten in the visit. “I have been to see Squibbs. He says your necklace was purchased by a Mr. Enders, from Brighton,” Philmot explained when we had a chance for a little private talk in a corner.
“Did he say what price Harmsworth got for them?”
“A hundred guineas, on a straight sale. He never tried to pawn them at all.”
“How did he think he could get away with it?” I asked, astonished at his recklessness. I had already
come to terms with his lack of character.
“He very nearly did, didn’t he? I suppose he counted on your discretion to keep it secret, or perhaps he felt it was a question of your word against his, as you did not exact any written receipt from him when you handed the diamonds over. Rather remiss of you, incidentally.”
“Who would ever have thought a lord would sink so low?”
“Certainly not you. I shall go to Brighton tomorrow and try if I can find Enders.”
“Papa will get the money. I appreciate all your efforts on my behalf, Philmot. We don’t want you spending your blunt besides.”
“I shall submit a detailed bill when I return. It is not likely Enders will turn them over for the price he paid. He will expect a profit on the business,” Philmot cautioned, unable to hide his relish. What sum would be as
ked, I wondered, and would Papa be able to raise it?
“If he wants too much…” I said hesitantly.
“An expensive business, trusting your fortune to a nobleman,” he remarked idly.
The next morning Papa and Philmot set off for Brighton early. Lady Synge took us for a drive in the park in the morning, then returned after luncheon with a few ladies to pay a call. "You remember Miss Fenwick, who was visiting me earlier in the season,” she reminded Lady Hazelton.
“The lady who was governess to your Dottie, is it not?” the dame asked, raising a lorgnette to examine me.
“Governess?” Lady Synge laughed archly. “Say friend rather. Olivia was kind enough to lend me a hand in the schoolroom when my Miss Silver had to leave unexpectedly.”
I had difficulty to keep my face composed when I heard my christian name fall from her lips, along with that whisker about my being a guest.
“Olivia is interested in progressive education,” she rattled on. “Her cousin, Lady Monterne, put the bug in her ear when she was staying at Dawlish last year. How is the dear Marchioness, Olivia?”
The talk continued, bringing in the Strathaconas and the Duchess of Tavistock. They paid more than a formal visit. For over an hour we all sat in the saloon, sipping sherry, eating biscuits, and pretending we were not all ill at ease throughout the charade. Miss Millichope and Doris were also present, but as they said little, I have not mentioned them. Doris was being introduced into the realm of chapbooks, and other murky intellectual waters by her new mentor.
Chapter Twenty-two
I received my diamonds back that evening from Papa. “Rough going we had of it with that Enders fellow,” he told me, with a reprimanding shake of the head. “He is a dealer in gems, secondhand pieces of jewelry he picks up where he can, without too much concern for where they came from, or by what means. He wanted plenty for them, I can tell you.”
“How much?" I asked, dreading to hear the answer.
“A hundred and fifty, but Philmot took high ground, threatening to bring in the law and speaking of ‘stolen jewelry’ and so on. In the end, the man was happy enough to part with them at the price he paid. It was our having a lord to represent us that saved the day. Simple folks hold them in awe, as Philmot said.” My eyes narrowed at this. "Had it been just you and me, Livvie, we would have paid more.”