Gavotte

by Marina Oliver

  'Jack Vaughan! I swore 'twas you!'

  Jack smiled in welcome. 'Will Dane, by all that's great! I have not seen you since the day we left Oxford. What have you been doing with yourself? Waiter! Two more pints of sack. Now, Will, come and sit down.'

  Mr Dane did so, and very soon he and Jack were deep in exchanging news and reminiscences of their days together at Oxford. Dinner time drew near and they ate at the Ordinary, then Mr Dane suggested Jack should accompany him to the house of a friend nearby where there was gaming most afternoons. Seeing a chance to repair his fortunes, Jack agreed, and they were soon in Chancery Lane. Mr Dane turned into a narrow lane, and led Jack into the house where several young men were gathered. The dicing and drinking went on all afternoon, and at the end Jack found himself richer by fifty pounds.

  Mr Dane beamed his congratulations when they left the house.

  'You must come again while your good fortune lasts. Tomorrow, about the same time?'

  Jack agreed, and with many cordial expressions of goodwill they parted, Mr Dane to a supper engagement, and Jack towards his lodgings in Duke Street. He planned to stop and eat supper on the way, but had only reached the Strand when the sound of his name being called made him freeze in dismay.

  'Jack!' It was Isabella's voice, close beside him. Slowly he turned to find her stepping from a chair.

  *

  'What are you doing here?' she demanded. 'Why are you not in Richmond? Where is Clare? Has aught happened?'

  'Isabella!' he exclaimed. 'What are you doing here, and alone?' he asked, hoping to win time in which to think of an explanation.

  'I am not alone. Mr Bettersley is escorting me home.' She introduced an unassuming young man who had been walking beside the chair. 'But now I have met you, there is no need to trouble him further, for you can take his place.' She turned to the young man. 'I do thank you, sir, for your escort. Pray tell your mother how much I have enjoyed today's visit. My mother will hope to call soon.'

  He protested, politely, but ruthlessly she dismissed him, reminding him of a supper engagement. 'You know it was inconvenient for you, suddenly having this duty thrust upon you. 'Tis fortunate we met my cousin, for he can escort me home. Besides, we have much to talk about,' with a glance at Jack.

  Mr Bettersley bowed himself away, while Isabella dismissed the chairmen, then turned to Jack.

  'Now. Why are you not in Richmond?'

  'I – I had business to see to, and returned,' Jack said, as nonchalantly as he could.

  'Business? Rubbish! What business could you have that called you back so from a visit to Mistress Aubrey?'

  'Really, 'tis nought of your affair, Isabella!' he tried to bluster. 'And what do you do alone with that fellow? Who is he?'

  She looked hard at him. 'The Bettersleys are old friends from Brussels, just arrived here,' she said briefly. 'We were to spend the day with them, but Mother had one of her headaches, and went to bed. Then while we were there, Father was suddenly called away for some duty taking him out of town. James Bettersley offered to escort me home in his stead. Now you can tell me what I wish to know. You are embroiled in some folly, clearly. Tell me the truth. Where is Clare?'

  'I cannot think why you should imagine she is elsewhere than Richmond.'

  'Is she there?'

  'Of course!'

  Isabella noticed his slight hesitation. 'I want the truth!'

  'She is safe, there is no need for concern,' he blustered guiltily, his wits dulled by the wine he had consumed.

  'Where is she?' Isabella persisted. 'Is she with Mistress Aubrey? My God! If aught has happened to her, you will pay for't!'

  'Nought has happened to her that she did not herself desire!' Jack retorted, stung into indiscretion.

  'So! Was this your scheme or hers?'

  'I was but trying to help them.' Jack, sulky, realised that as always Isabella's strong will was defeating him.

  'Them?' A dreadful suspicion was born in Isabella's mind. 'What has she done? Tell me, Jack, quickly. If she plans aught rash we might be in time to prevent it if we move swiftly.'

  'You are too late!' There was a note of triumph in his voice as he told Isabella she was foiled. 'By now she is safe away from your bullying and interfering!'

  'Away? Where? And who is she with? Has Edward Willis aught to do with this?'

  Jack smiled in a superior way, and Isabella shook his arm furiously.

  'Has she gone with Edward?'

  Still smiling, Jack nodded.

  'Eloped!' Isabella whispered, and walked on in silence for a while. They were now in Drury Lane and she did not speak again until they turned the corner into Great Queen Street. Jack, accustomed to her scolding, was alarmed by this uncharacteristic reticence.

  'You must help me undo the harm,' she said at last, quietly.

  'I see no harm, and there is nought to be done,' he replied, but she ignored that, and as they had reached Lady Lyndon's house, gestured to him to knock for admittance.

  'Oh, Hal, is my mother still in bed?' she asked the servant who opened the door to them.

  'Yes, and still sleeping, Mistress Isabella.'

  'And Lady Lyndon has gone, I presume?'

  He nodded, and Isabella smiled briefly, then led Jack into a small parlour.

  She turned and faced him, her expression distraught.

  'You are a fool!' she exclaimed, with something of her usual force of manner. 'Do you not realise what harm you have done her? If this becomes known she will never be able to make a good marriage!'

  'But she is marrying Edward, and that is a good marriage,' Jack retorted angrily. 'Why should she marry to please you?'

  Isabella shook her head. 'She is so pretty, she could marry whom she chose, and be wealthy, not for ever striving to make money do twice as much as it is intended for!'

  'But she loves Edward, and he is a good fellow. He will care for her.'

  'Love!' Isabella was scornful. 'What is that but a foolish emotion the poets encourage with their romantic nonsense! It does not last, but other things do! Jack, do you not see, she will regret this for the rest of her life if she is not stopped.'

  'You cannot stop her.'

  'Indeed I can and I will! And there will be no scandal if I can avoid it. She shall not be allowed to throw herself away on a penniless little squire, no better than a yeoman farmer!'

  'It is too late.'

  'Where have they gone? They would not dare remain in England, for Clare is under age. Have they ridden for Dover?'

  Jack did not answer and Isabella stamped her foot in exasperation.

  'Jack, you must help me. If you do not care about Clare's prospects – '

  'I do, which is why I did as she begged!' Jack interrupted, angry in his turn. 'What prospect was there for her, being driven into marriage with a creature like Aloysius?'

  'Mr Aloysius? Had he offered for her?' Isabella asked, momentarily diverted.

  'Yes he had, and frightened her out of her wits. She said he was certain of getting Uncle Stephen's permission, and poor Clare had no one to turn to. She was desperate.'

  'Well she would not have been forced to wed anyone she loathed,' Isabella commented icily. 'Besides, Mr Aloysius was not so very eligible as a husband. There were far better prospects.'

  'From the way you had been behaving, Clare thought you would have been overjoyed Aloysius had offered for her. And she did not want any other prospects, whoever they were!'

  'She is too obsessed with Edward to understand. But Jack, even if you will not agree with me over Clare, you are not in a very good position yourself. Once it becomes known you have helped in an elopement, your own chances of a good marriage would be gone. You have been thinking of Frances, have you not?'

  He started. 'What of it? I do not see how it could become known.'

  'There is so much gossip all would be known and exaggerated unless we can get her back soon. A runaway marriage – if he does marry her – cannot be concealed! Jack, we must stop them. You must help me
. They have gone to Dover?'

  'I cannot betray their confidence,' Jack maintained virtuously and desperately, glancing guiltily at Isabella.

  She nodded. 'How long since?'

  'What does it matter? They are gone.'

  'How much money have you?'

  'What has that to do with aught?' he asked in surprise.

  'I mean to ride after them and you must come with me.'

  'That I will not!'

  'Jack, you are responsible for this. Without your aid Clare could not have escaped. You must come with me and attempt to repair the damage. If you will not I shall go on my own,' she declared. 'I have some money, and I must hope 'tis enough to pay for horses to Dover, and if necessary a passage to France.'

  'Isabella, you cannot go alone!' Jack was alarmed, knowing how determined she was.

  'There is no one else, for Father is out of town, and I would not wish to inform anyone outside the family of your folly.'

  'It is late, you will not get far tonight. You cannot put up at an inn by yourself!'

  'I do not propose to put up at an inn. They will leave Dover by the morning packet, and unless I ride through the night I will not come up with them.'

  'Isabella!' Jack was even more horrified.

  'Then come with me!'

  'Oh, very well, since you are determined to be ridiculous!' Jack's mind, misty with the amount of drink he had consumed that day, dimly perceived that if he accompanied Isabella he might be able to cause sufficient delay to prevent her from catching the fugitives. Besides, he was genuinely horrified at the thought of her riding alone through the night, and he knew her well enough to know she meant what she said.

  *

  'We will take horses from Lady Lyndon's stables for the first stage.'

  'As you wish it. Shall you tell everyone where we go?'

  'No. 'Twill but worry them. I will leave a note telling Mother I am going with you to Richmond. Lady Lyndon and Frances have gone to supper with the Edes. Go and see about the horses while I change my gown.'

  He went off, and Isabella ran upstairs and rang for her maid. She was struggling to undo the fastenings of her gown when the girl arrived.

  'I am riding to Richmond with Jack Vaughan,' she explained. 'Pack me saddle bags with the things I shall need for a night or so, and one gown, the blue.'

  The maid nodded and came across to help Isabella out of her gown.

  'My! Such doings! There's been more excitement today than at the Coronation,' she said.

  'What do you mean?' Isabella paused for a moment, then turned to pull her habit from the press. From the excited tone of her voice there had obviously been no calamity.

  'How nice for Mistress Frances!' the girl continued, as she rapidly collected Isabella's things and packed them. 'He's such a handsome, gallant gentleman! It's exciting to have a betrothal in the house. I wonder when it will be announced? I expect there'll be a ball, and all sorts of other celebrations.'

  Isabella, her riding habit over her head, had gone cold at these casual words. Frances betrothed! It must have happened that very day. She remembered the attentions Jason had paid to Frances on the day of the Coronation, and recalled in detail all the other times she had seen them together.

  'But Frances did not wish it,' she thought, then realised Frances would have done as had been expected of her. 'Why should I care?' she admonished herself. 'Hateful, overbearing man! Poor Frances. And Jack too,' she thought belatedly, realising he would not now have any chance of marrying Frances.

  'Are you stuck?' the maid asked, and Isabella, still engulfed in her habit, muttered she was, and schooled her expression to a suitably joyful one when she had been assisted into the habit. The maid was still chattering.

  'It's been people coming and going all day. Lord Belvedere was so pleased, he just laughed when he called here to escort Lady Lyndon and Mistress Frances to their party and was told Mr Marlowe had gone rushing off to the country without waiting to tell him. Hal said, though, that afterwards he was quiet, a bit abstracted, not like his usual self. I think he must have been put out.'

  'Yes, very likely,' Isabella replied, abstracted herself as she brushed her hair and set on it a large-brimmed hat sporting a gay plume. Then she sat at a small table and wrote swiftly.

  'If my mother wakes before Lady Lyndon returns, please give her this note. If not, give it to Lady Lyndon. It explains where I have gone.' She sanded and folded the note and gave it to the maid, then went downstairs to where Jack was waiting with the horses outside the front door.

  *

  As they rode off Jack said he needed to collect some things from his lodgings.

  'Why?' Isabella asked suspiciously. 'You set off this morning with the intention of spending two nights away from home. What else can you possibly need?'

  'That was a hoax,' Jack replied in an injured tone. 'I did not really have my things with me.'

  'Oh, then I suppose we must!' she fumed. 'But hurry!'

  Duke Street was not far away, and when they arrived outside the house Isabella commanded Jack brusquely to give her the reins, refusing to dismount and wait for him inside.

  'Hurry!' she admonished, and he nodded and disappeared into the house. He delayed as long as he dared, bolstering his courage with several glasses of wine, and Isabella was wrathful when he finally emerged.

  'Have you been supping?' she asked tartly, then added before he could reply, 'Come!'

  She flung the reins to him, turned her horse and set off, leaving Jack to follow. They crossed the Bridge, and were soon through the village of Southwark on the other side, out of the crowds and able to spur on their horses. They rode as fast as possible in the faint moonlight, speaking scarcely at all except to argue when Jack complained he was hungry and it was time to stop for supper. Isabella rounded on him angrily.

  'You may go hungry! We have no time to stop and bait!'

  Jack relapsed into a sulky silence which lasted until they reached the inn where they made the first change of horses. Isabella had taken charge and was making arrangements for Lady Lyndon's horses to be sent back to her when she heard Jack calling for wine to be brought. She turned on him.

  'We have no time, and you are half drunk already!'

  'Not at all. I will have wine, and if you will not wait, go on!'

  The new horses were led out and Isabella mounted, half-determined to leave him, but at that moment the waiter appeared with Jack's tankard so she sat her horse impatiently while he drank. Then he mounted and they rode out of the yard. Isabella set off as fast as the moonlight permitted. It was brighter now, and they pounded along the road. Jack's mount being larger than that of Isabella, it drew ahead. She concentrated on getting the utmost out of her horse, and scarcely realised until she passed them that Jack had slowed down and was coming to a halt.

  'What is't now?' she called impatiently as she reined in.

  'The brute has cast a shoe,' he answered, dismounting, and silently thanking his good fortune for this further delay.

  ' 'Sblood!' Isabella exclaimed in frustration. She looked round. There were no lights of a village to be seen. 'You will have to walk to the nearest smithy. But he was faster than my mount, and if I continue you can catch me up.'

  'No, Isabella, you dare not!' he protested, suddenly conscious of the dangers she would be running, but Isabella was by now too furiously angry to heed him.

  'Come after me as swiftly as you can,' she repeated, and digging her spur into the horse's flank, set off again.

  Jack looked after her helplessly. For one wild moment he contemplated riding after her, but he had too ingrained a love of horses to ruin one with such treatment. Sighing, he began to walk to the nearest smithy, some three miles further on. There was no sign of life in the smithy itself, so he banged on the door of the adjoining cottage. Eventually the door opened. When Jack explained his horse needed shoeing the man was surly and reluctant to resume work at that late hour.

  'The fire is out, 'twill take too long,' he sai
d. 'Why do you not rack up at the inn, and I'll do it first thing in the morning.'

  'I cannot wait,' Jack explained. 'I will pay double.'

  The smith's eyes lit up, and he nodded. Slowly he walked into the smithy and began to ply the bellows to an almost spent pile of embers. Jack saw the lights of an inn beckoning from the far side of the village green, and determined to have the supper that had been denied him earlier while he waited, so he walked across and entered the inn. He called for a flagon of wine, and then settled himself in the common room to enjoy the hearty supper the innkeeper offered. The man had been most attentive, suggesting various dishes he thought would please the gentleman, and Jack relaxed, beginning to enjoy himself. He exchanged remarks with the other inhabitants of the common room, and was soon drawn into discussion on the finer points of hazard.

  Inevitably, when he was invited to demonstrate his skill in a game, he succumbed to the temptation, suppressing the slight twinge of conscience when he thought of Isabella. He reasoned, not without some difficulty in marshalling his thoughts, that he would not be able to catch up with her, and she would most likely have realised the folly of travelling alone, and put up at an inn. He would never discover which, and besides, he added hazily to himself, she had brought any troubles she might have experienced on herself with her own obstinacy, and he washed his hands of the whole affair.

  It was, therefore, with little hesitation that he accepted the invitation, and agreed to the further suggestion of retiring to one of the bedchambers where it would be quieter and more convenient. For the first couple of hours Jack found himself winning consistently, and his hopes of repaying his debts rose. He began betting deeper and deeper, and drinking more and more heavily. Despite his fuddled state, his skill with the dice seemed to be unimpaired and the pile of gold in front of him increased steadily. He did not notice the significant glances the others were giving each other, and the last thing he remembered was an angry voice as one of his companions sprang up and ran behind him, shouting something about loaded dice.