Her head drooped on to his shoulder. “Yes, Gilly. I have been very stupid! Only I could not help thinking that perhaps you had met a lady whom you liked better than me.”
“I have not. I am sure I never could,” he replied. She blushed, and wiped the drops from her cheeks. He drew her towards the table, and set a chair for her, pulling up another for himself. “You always helped me out of scrapes, Harry!” he said. “I am in such a scrape now!”
She smiled tremulously at him. “Oh, no, how could you be? Tell me! What made you run away from London?”
“I was so tired with being Duke of Sale! Do you understand that, Harriet?”
She nodded. “Yes, for they worried you so. Gideon used to say that one day you would kick over the traces. Was that what it was?”
“Not quite. Matthew was in a scrape, and I thought I could rescue him from it and I was quite right: I did rescue him, and that was where Belinda came into my life. Harriet, I don’t know what the devil to do with Belinda! At least, I didn’t know until I thought of you, and then it seemed to me that the best plan would be to bring her to you. She is the most tiresome girl!”
There was quite a pretty colour in Harriet’s cheeks; she gave a gurgle of laughter, and said: “Is she, Gilly? But who is she, pray?”
“She is a foundling,” he replied. “Oh, I shall have to tell you the whole story! You will think I have run mad!”
But although Harriet was considerably astonished by the tale unfolded to her, she did not think he had run mad. She listened to him in breathless silence, her colour fluctuating as she heard of the dangers which had threatened him. But as the tale proceeded she began to perceive that his adventures had subtly altered him. She had never seen him look so well, or know him to be so gay; and there clung about him an air of assurance he had previously lacked: He chose to turn it all to a jest, and to laugh at himself for falling into such pitfalls, but it was plain to Harriet that this diffident young man to whom she was betrothed had a quite unexpected strength of character, and was very well able to take care of himself. She glowed, and although she could not help laughing at the absurdity of his position, she admired him too, and would have accepted a dozen foundlings at his hands without uttering a word of reproach.
“Oh, Gilly, what a scrape to be in!” she said, when he came to the end of his story. “It is the most ridiculous thing I ever heard! What will Lord Lionel say, if he finds out?”
“He will clap me into Bedlam, I daresay. To tell you the truth, I care very little for what he may say if only I can be rid of Belinda! I must find this Mudgley-fellow! And of course that nonsensical girl has not the least notion where he lives! But the thing is, Harriet, I can’t continue at the Pelican with her, and I dare not be seen abroad with her—in this of all towns!—for fear of meeting someone I know!”
“No, indeed! Only think of my feelings!” she agreed, twinkling shyly at him.
“Yes, and then there is this milliner to whom she was apprenticed! Harry, I am quite ignorant about apprentices! Do you know what happens to them if they break their indentures?”
“No, but I am sure it is something dreadful. I believe they are quite bound for a number of years, almost like slaves!”
“Good God! what must I do to get her honourably released, I wonder?”
“Well, do you know, Gilly, I think perhaps I could do that,” she confided, blushing a little.
“No, could you indeed?” he said eagerly. “I am afraid she is a very disagreeable woman. Belinda finds nearly every woman so, I own, but from what she has said to me about Mrs. Puling I do think she is an unkind, tyrannical female. Belinda is frightened to death of her! Would she be satisfied if I offered to pay whatever is owing to her?”
“I daresay she might be, but I don’t think you should appear in the matter at all,” said Harriet firmly. “I have been considering, and I believe it may be something I can do for you quite easily. You know, Gilly, everyone knows that we are to be married in the spring, and all the dressmakers and the milliners want to make my gowns and trim my hats. Because it—it is a great thing to be marrying a Duke, and they think it will be the most fashionable wedding of the season. I cannot but feel that if I were to go to Mrs. Pilling’s establishment, and tell her that I wish her to make me several hats to go with my bride-clothes she would be very willing to forgive Belinda.”
He was much moved. “Harriet, you are the best-natured girl in the world! But from her direction I cannot think that she is at all a modish milliner! You will not like to buy hats from her.”
“I shall not mind, dear Gilly,” replied Harriet simply.
He kissed her hand. “But your mama! What would she have to say?”
“I—I shall not mind that either, if it is for you,” said Harriet. “And I think I shall drive there in Grandmama’s barouche, and take my footman as well as my maid. I expect Mrs. Pilling would like that. And then, you know, she will let it be widely known that she is to make several hats for me, and it will bring her a great deal of much more fashionable custom than perhaps she has ever had.”
He was not very conversant with feminine foibles, but he was dimly aware that his betrothed was making a considerable sacrifice for him. He thanked her warmly, adding after a moment’s thought: “And if you do not like them you may throw them away after all!”
She laughed at that. “Oh, no, how extravagant! I think Mama would certainly have something to say at such shocking waste of money!”
“Would she?” he said, dashed. A happy thought occurred to him. “It doesn’t signify! You may throw them away as soon as we are married, and buy some new ones. Should you like to go to Paris? They have very good bonnets there. If only we can contrive to go without my uncle’s foisting Belper on to us!”
She said earnestly: “Gilly, no one can foist anyone on to you any more!”
He smiled a little ruefully. “Do you think so?”
“I know it. Only if you let them, and you will not.”
“Now I come to consider it,” he remarked, “even my uncle would not expect me to take my tutor with me on my honeymoon! Harriet, I think we should go to Paris! We could have the most diverting time! Should you care for it?”
“Yes, of all things,” she said, looking tenderly at him. “But first we must provide for Belinda!”
“So we must! I was forgetting about her. How vexatious it is! Are you sure you do not mind having her to stay with you until I have found Mudgley?”
“No, indeed!” she assured him.
He looked a little doubtful. “Yes, but I have just bethought me of your grandmother. What shall you tell her?”
“I shall tell her the truth,” Harriet replied. “For, recollect, she already knows that that horrid Lady Boscastle saw you in Hitchin with Belinda! And, if you do not very much object to it, Gilly, I shall tell her about your adventures, because I think she will be very much amused, and pleased.” She smiled a little. “Grandmama is not at all like Mama, you know, and she has been saying to me that although she likes you very well she would like you better still if you were not so very conformable and well-behaved! Of course I shall not tell her about Matthew! And I daresay she would like you to bring Tom to visit her, for she dearly loves anything that makes her laugh. She will be in whoops when she hears of the backward-race! I wonder, will he get into mischief here?”
“My God, I hope not!” exclaimed the Duke. “Perhaps I had best go back to the Pelican, for if he comes home from the theatre and does not find me heaven alone knows what he may take it into his head to do!”
“Perhaps you had,” Harriet said regretfully. “And I must go back to the drawing-room, or people will begin to wonder. Grandmama will let me bring her carriage to fetch Belinda in the morning. What shall you do then? Do you mean to remove to Cheyney?”
“Oh, no, I don’t wish to bury myself there! When Nettlebed has brought me my clothes, and I am fit to be seen again, I think I shall go to the Christopher. Do you attend the dress-balls? Will you stand up
with me for all the country-dances?”
She laughed. “Oh, yes, but what will Tom do?”
“Good God, Tom! I must send off an express to his father. I fear he is shockingly vulgar, and will forgive me for my atrocious conduct merely because I am a Duke!”
She rose, and gave him her hand, saying playfully: “It will be well for you if he does, Gilly!”
He kissed her hand, and then her cheek. “Yes, very true! He sounds a terrifying person, and would no doubt make short work of a plain Mr. Dash of Nowhere in Particular. Thank God I am a Duke!”
Chapter XXI
When the news was broken to Belinda that she was to go to stay with a kind lady in Laura Place, she looked very doleful, and said that she would prefer to stay with Mr. Rufford, because ladies were always cross, and she did not like them.
“You will like this lady,” said the Duke firmly. “She is quite a young lady, and she is never cross.”
Belinda looked beseechingly at him. “Please, I would like to find Mr. Mudgley!” she said.
“And so you shall. At least, you shall if I can discover where he lives.”
Belinda sighed. “Mr. Mudgley would not let Mrs. Pilling put me in prison,” she said. “He would marry me instead, and then I should be safe.”
“I shall do my best to find him for you,” promised the Duke;
“Yes, but if you don’t find him I shall not know what to do,” said Belinda sadly.
“Nonsense! We will think of something for you,”
“Oh!” said Belinda. “Will you marry me, sir?”
“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 will 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.”! 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, quick 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 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 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 look 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!”
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