A Most Lamentable Comedy
Page 21
Caroline gives the bear a furious glare, and I don’t know whether it’s just coincidence, but the creature backs away to Barton’s side.
Mary reaches out a timid hand and strokes the bear’s head. It makes a low, rumbling sound of enjoyment.
The coachman approaches me. ‘Beg your pardon, sir, we have a broken wheel. When the bear scared the horses, we bumped against a rock at the side of the road.’
‘Oh, very well done,’ Caroline says. ‘By the way, Congrevance, the Duke has been tupping me for weeks now. He’s much better than you are in bed.’ She ties her bonnet with a determined air and shakes out her rumpled skirts. ‘Bigger, too. Much bigger; I believe you know to what I refer. Good afternoon, gentlemen.’
She marches down the road.
‘Needs a good whipping, if you ask me,’ Jeb says, staring after her in horror.
‘I wouldn’t even dare try. Thank you, gentlemen. Barton, Jeb, help them with the carriage and horses. The rest of you, get back to work, if you please.’
They grin, raising their weapons, and wish me luck as I follow her down the road.
‘Go away.’
‘Where do you think you’re going, Caro?’
‘Away from you.’
‘This road leads to the Duke’s house. You’ll get there in a few hours, I should think. I’ll follow you to make sure you’re safe.’
‘Oh, indeed, yes. From banditti and bears, I suppose.’
‘I’m sorry it went wrong. I was rescuing you, you see, and—’
‘Hold your tongue, Congrevance.’
My lovely Caroline. Despite my pain, I am overwhelmed with happiness to be close to her again. I run a few steps so I can walk side-by-side with her. She gives me the same look she gave the bear, but I am not so easily deterred.
‘You look thin.’ The bosom is as magnificent as ever, but I do not think it tactful to say so.
‘I can’t think why. I’ve been eating like a pig. Not much else to do, though – it’s quite boring being a duke’s mistress.’
‘Except when bouncing upon his oversized ducal member, I suppose.’ A thought strikes me. ‘You’re not with child, by any chance, are you?’
She turns her head to glare at me. ‘No, thank God, but Mary is, and that rogue must marry her. You or the Duke had best settle some money on him.’
‘I’ll see to it.’
The road turns a corner, and a vista of hills and crags opens up, glowing in the afternoon sun.
She stops and regards the view with surprise and pleasure.
I can look only at her.
Lady Caroline Elmhurst
He stands and stares at me while I try to decide what to do as I pretend to enjoy the view; to be quite honest, it is a splendid view, or would be, if I were not so angry.
And I really want to look at him again. He has wiped most of the mud from his hair and face; he is still as lean and beautiful as ever, his hair lightened a little from being outside, I suppose. His cheekbones are sharper than I remember; his mouth just as luscious, if a little chapped.
I want to feel those chapped lips on mine, on my skin. All over me.
‘Why did you do it, Congrevance? Why did you say those terrible things to me?’eight="0e
‘I . . . had rather you hated me than grieve for me.’ He stares at his hands. They are bare and scratched and somewhat dirty. I don’t think he’s been playing cards or flirting in drawing rooms recently (but if he has, I shall kill him).
‘That’s remarkably stupid. It did not occur to you that you might well have caused me to do both?’
‘I know.’ He looks at me. ‘There’s a short cut we can take to Thirlwell’s house. Your half-boots are very pretty, but I doubt they’ll last the road.’
‘Don’t change the subject!’
‘I beg your pardon.’ He bows, as elegantly as ever, despite his shabby appearance.
I swallow. ‘You’re thinner, too.’
He gives me that crooked smile, the one that then, and even now, makes something twist inside me.
I look away, angry with him and myself. A chill wind springs up, ruffling the heather that stretches away around us. The shadows of clouds shift along the hillsides; colours change, brighten and fade. A hawk hangs motionless in the air, before plummeting downwards so fast it disappears from view.
‘Who is Thirlwell to you, anyway?’ I ask.
‘My half-brother.’
So that explains the resemblance between them.
‘This way,’ Congrevance says. He takes my hand in his and leads me down a steep slope. My feet slip on loose stones and heather, and I am obliged to clutch his arm, bumping against his side.
‘But why did you do it? Why did you go away?’
‘It wasn’t because I was tired of you or had no regard for you. Not by any means. It was because I had no money and because of what . . . what I’d done before I met you.’
‘You had no money?’ I keep hold of his hand as we pick up a small path that winds between huge boulders.
‘Hardly any.’
‘Well, neither did I. I was horribly in debt. So what did you do before you met me? Were you a spy?’
‘For a time. It’s very boring work and no one ever tells you the reason why you’re doing what you have to do. But the truth is, Caroline, that I . . . well, women paid me to . . .’
‘To what?’
Mr Nicholas Congrevance
I tell her in a short, if obscene, phrase.
Her shoulders shake, her face hidden by her bonnet.
Oh God, I have made her cry.
‘Caroline.’ I clutch her hand. ‘I know it was a despicable thing to do. I . . .’
She turns her face to me and I see she’s laughing. I don’t know whether I should feel relieved or insulted.
‘They paid you?’
‘Yes.’
She leans against a boulder and howls with laughter. ‘You mean . . . I hope you did better with them than you did with me, for I would not have paid you a shilling. Oh God, Congrevance, that is the funniest thing I ever heard.’
‘Indeed, ma’am.’
‘So, how did you do it?’ She starts walking again.
What on earth does she mean?
‘How did you find your . . . victims?’
I trudge alongside her, not daring to look at her face. ‘I usually kept an eye open for a bored married woman or a rich widow—’
‘Like me?’
‘Yes. Like you. You’d be surprised how many wealthy women are bored and looking for adventure, particularly with someone exotic, a foreigner.’
‘Really? How would you persuade them?’ She stops and looks me in the face, for the first time, I think, since I burst in upon her carriage. ‘Show me.’
‘Show you . . . what exactly?’
‘What you would say. What you would do.’ I remember my pathetic attempts to seduce her with my usual nonsense about nursing a broken heart; how I could not sustain the illusion.
She taps her foot. ‘Congrevance, I am waiting.’
‘Yes, yes. I know.’ I look around. ‘Oh God.’
‘What’s wrong?’
‘I think we have lost the path.’
‘What path?’
‘Well, it’s not much of a path, but there should be a cairn – that’s a pile of stones – behind and ahead of us to mark the way, and I think we’ve descended too low, and—’
‘You are such a fool.’ She cocks her head. ‘Is that a stream? I’m thirsty
We follow the sound of the flowing water and find a tiny waterfall maybe a foot high that tumbles into a black pool. Creamy blossoms from a rowan tree, rooted in a split boulder above, cascade into the water.
‘The country folk around here believe rowans are the fairies’ trees,’ I offer, as I attempt to clean the mud dried stiff on my face.
‘I trust they won’t begrudge us refreshment.’ She raises her cupped hands to her mouth and then to mine. I drink icy water and kiss the palms of her hands, and
with a brief, light touch she trails her fingers over my face.
‘I love you,’ I say, startled and aroused.
‘I think you say that when you’re trying to avoid something, as you are now. I want to know, Congrevance.’
‘Caroline, don’t you think you’ve humiliated me enough? I’m little more than my brother’s indentured servant, you’ve probably destroyed any chances I have of begetting children, you’ve humiliated me in front of my men, you’ve—’
‘Humiliation? I beg your pardon, sir, you know nothing of it. Nothing! I have been betrayed and lied to and forced into becoming another man’s mistress, or at least been made to think so; and then your idiotic attempts at banditry – what was the point of that?’
‘It was my brother’s idea. He thought that it might increase your regard for me if I appeared as a hero to rescue you, but you didn’t give me a chance to explain myself. As for yourself, ma’am, you’re no innocent. You became – or thought you were becoming – my brother’s mistress with very little moral struggle—’
‘As you planned! You’re a fool, Congrevance.’ She stands and runs downhill beside the stream, sure-footed and graceful, and disappears into the thicket of trees that line this narrow valley. I have never seen this place before in my life. What I should do is to climb back up the way we came and search for the path, but I cannot leave Caroline behind; not now, not ever.
I push my way between the close-growing trees. It’s quiet in here, dim and cool, much moss underfoot, and very little light coming through the branches.
I stand and listen. All is silent, save for the quiet murmur of the stream.
‘Caroline! Where are you? Be careful; my grandfather, the old Earl, liked to set mantraps in woods like these.’
‘Nonsense. They’d be rusted through by now.’ Her voice is nearer than I would have expected.
‘Where are you?’
‘Here. Stuck.’ With some difficulty, my coat tearing on a branch, I find her trapped by brambles, eating blackberries with great tranquillity. She has a purple smudge at the side of her mouth I long to kiss; her hair is half down; she is the most beautiful creature in the world.
‘Did you leave any for me?’ I ask as I bend to disentangle her skirts.
She slips a fruit, warm from her hand, into mine.
‘Only one?’
‘That’s all you deserve for not doing as I ask.’
I take her hand and attempt to lead her out of the trees, but I cannot work out which way we should go. The stream that would lead us out, if only we could find it, burbles quietly, but I cannot tell where it is. Branches rip at our hair and clothes and roots trip us. Out of breath and out of patience, at last we find ourselves in a small open space. Some sunlight filters through the branches above, and there is enough space to stand upright.
‘Well, Congrevance?’ She sits on a boulder, hands folded, a bright, expectant look on her face, as if at the play, or waiting for some delightful entertainment to begin.
I shake my head. ‘Very well. I would assume a – an identity other than my own; something foreign and exotic. Or at least foreign to the ladies.’
She nods.
‘And then I’d seduce them – or at least show I intended to seduce them – and quite often they’d offer me an apartment or jewels or some other gift. Or I’d lead them to think that I was in financial difficulties and they’d offer a loan – they were always rich women. I liked some of them. I think most of them knew what I was about.’ I fall silent. I remember how I planned to do this with Caroline, and how my usual subterfuges and flattering lies failed.
‘Show me. Pretend you are seducing me.’
I sink to my knees in front of her and take her hand. I am about to do what I have never done before: tell a woman the truth about myself.
‘My name is Nicholas Congrevance. I am the bastard half-brother of the Duke of Thirlwell, whom I believe you have met, ma’am.’ I slide her redingote she wears for travel, a long, close-fitting coat, from her shoulders, and peel it from her arms.
‘I have, sir. I noticed the family resemblance immediately.’ She unbuttons my coat.
‘My mother was French, the old Duke’s mistress. I was raised as his son’s companion after she died, and all went well until our father died quite suddenly in a riding accident when I was sixteen and my brother, a year younger, inherited the title. I resented my brother’s new status, and we quarrelled over a woman. A milkmaid.’ I draw the fichu from the neck of her gown.
‘I do not wish to hear of other women.’ She pouts and takes her hands from my waistcoat.
‘She made excellent butter, but she was not as lovely as you. She did not have this beautiful, creamy skin, or such wonderful shoulders.’ I reach to unfasten her gown, kissing her neck and shoulders.
‘Ah. So you quarrelled?’ Her fingers return to my waistcoat and I shrug it and my coat off.
‘Yes, and I left the country after we fought. My brother thought I was dead. But many years later – careful, Caro, don’t throttle me with my neckcloth – I met a wonderful woman who fainted into my arms at an inn, and it was only then that I fell in love again.’
‘Oh! How dare you talk of another woman!’ She clutches her descending gown to her bosom.
‘I wronged this woman quite dreadfully, and my brother, with whom I became reconciled, was determined to make an honest man of me and an honest woman of her. He offered me the position I was to have had as his land agent, and I wore my fingers to the bone putting a roof on a house for her.’
I prise her hands from the gown, kissing each fingertip, and then start on the delightful task of unlacing her stays – short, side-lacing for ease when travelling, easy enough to remove as she rips a button from my shirt.
‘And now, my brother, who has squandered most of an inheritance my father left me on paying off his mistress’s debts—’
‘That was your money? I thought Thirlwell—’ She pulls my shirt over my head.
‘No, it was mine. All these years, and I never knew I had money here. Alas, he holds the purse strings and refuses to release what is left, although he promises to do so any day. I regret I find myself somewhat short . . .’
Her hands busy themselves with my breeches. She giggles. ‘Short? You do not mean, I believe, a small legacy?’
‘Somewhat large, with time, I think, ma’am. I could not possibly impose . . .’
‘Quite larger. Oh, sir, please do impose yourself upon me, I beg you.’
‘It is my pleasure, ma’am.’
And so it is; hers too. Time is kind to us, slowing to a heartbeat, a breath, as we learn each other’s ways and sounds and tastes.
Well pleased, I open my eyes to see, through a strand of her hair, a path that leads plainly out of the wood, and now I know exactly where we are.
Dressing takes a little longer than it should, and the wood transforms around us into a friendly, noisy place, as birds flutter and whistle, and the trees rustle in a soft breeze.
Hand in hand, we walk out of the woods.
‘That was quite acceptable, Congrevance. I shall recommend you to my friends.’
‘Much obliged, ma’am, but I am to be married soon.’
‘Wait.’ The play-acting is over. ‘You expect me to marry you?’
Lady Caroline Elmhurst
The look on his face is altogether comic.
He stutters, ‘But – but – I’ve thoroughly compromised you. Of course we must marry. My brother won’t let us live in sin on his land; he’s afraid it’s a bad example to set the tenants. Besides, I have a house for us. I have a salary. I have a position. I have responsibilities.’
Poor Nick. Poor Nick, with his battered hands and ragged coat and scuffed boots, forcing out the words salary, position and responsibilities as though they were shameful things.
He continues, ‘It’s a far cry from London and society, of course, but my brother often has congenial company, and there are assembly rooms in the town, and . . .’
Sheep scatter into the heather as he strides ahead.
‘You must be mad!’ I shout back at him. ‘Why should I marry you? You’ve done nothing but deceive me since we first met.’
‘What?’ He stops and turns to face me. ‘On the contrary, Caro, I’ve done nothing but show you myself. It terrified me. The thought of marrying you terrifies me. But you’re stuck with me because I love you and you love me.’
I make my way through the heather towards him. The stuff has a tendency to trip me up. I could trip and fall into his arms.
‘Are you sure?’ I ask.
‘Sure of what?’
‘Love.’
I can say no more. And in truth, there is nowhere I wish to run, nowhere for me to end up but with him. The cabal of concerned friends who plot and plan our happy ending have done their work. It is up to us, for there is no one else now. We have emerged from the woods and the dreams and nightmares and must now tumble headlong into marriage.
I reach my hand out to him.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
About the Author
Acknowledgements
1. London, 1822 Lady Caroline Elmhurst
2. Guildford, Surrey Lady Caroline Elmhurst
3. Lady Caroline Elmhurst
4. Mr Nicholas Congrevance
5. Lady Caroline Elmhurst
6. Mr Nicholas Congrevance
7. Mr Nicholas Congrevance
8. Mr Nicholas Congrevance
9. Lady Caroline Elmhurst
10. Mr Nicholas Congrevance
11. Lady Caroline Elmhurst
12. Mr Nicholas Congrevance
13. Mr Nicholas Congrevance
14. Mr Nicholas Congrevance
15. Lady Caroline Elmhurst
16. Lady Caroline Elmhurst
17. Lady Caroline Elmhurst
18. Lady Caroline Elmhurst
19. Lady Caroline Elmhurst
20. Lady Caroline Elmhurst
21. Lady Caroline Elmhurst