The Devil You Know

by Sophia Holloway

‘At least, my love, you will have done your sisterly duty and I can have you all to myself again.’

  Their celebration of this fact left her with no time to ponder the better points of the match in her bed.

  The morning brought Lord Inglesham’s letter, which cast a slight damper over things, since Lord Rowington was due to disappear to his estates upon business the following week, and Lord Inglesham gave no indication as to when he might return to London. Lucy, deprived of the excitement of receiving her formal offer, wandered about the house, picking things up and putting them down again to the point where her sister became quite exasperated. The following morning she suggested Lucy take a maid and return her recent reading material to Hookham’s library, rather than ‘flit about aimlessly’. Lucy thought this a good idea, and decided she might spend a happy hour perusing the spines upon the shelves and deciding what Lord Inglesham might choose if he were present.

  This innocuous pleasure was disrupted when she heard Lady Ledbury’s name being mentioned by a female voice on the other side of the bookshelves.

  ‘I never promised that he would return to you, but this, this is far better in so many ways. Winning him to cast him off again would be the victory of a moment, and would be forgotten. This will linger in the memory and assure you of his continued unhappiness and shame.’

  ‘But you are not married, Sir Geoffrey, so what harm has Ledbury done to you that you would take this… revenge?’

  ‘My reasons are my own, ma’am, as I told you before. Let that suffice.’

  ‘I am not sure that I wish to be a party to this.’ The female voice was hesitant.

  ‘You need do nothing except that which you have done before, and spread gossip. You have seen Lady Ledbury depart in a post-chaise and four with me, and in a hurry, as though none expected her to be leaving. Add that Ledbury is away from home, and show one of your admirably raised eyebrows, and it will be round Town by nightfall.’ There was a pause. ‘Whether you abet me in this or not, I will have Lady Ledbury in a chaise, thinking she is galloping north to the bedside of her moribund husband, within the hour. I am simply offering you the chance to make this your own revenge also.’

  ‘And how will you bring this to a conclusion? She must return at some point.’

  ‘I think that depends upon my mama,’ he answered, rather cryptically. ‘Now, I have a chaise waiting outside. Good day to you, ma’am.’

  Lucy stood transfixed. ‘Within minutes’, that was what he had said, and she was certain that ‘Sir Geoffrey’ was Sir Geoffrey Knowle. It made no sense, for he was upon good terms with Lady Ledbury. Books were forgotten, She hurried from the library, with her maid struggling to keep up with her, and almost collided with a carriage drawing up outside.

  ‘Miss Sudbury, are you hurt?’

  A red-headed lady in a dashing bonnet leaned forward in the carriage.

  ‘No, ma’am, I… I must get home immediately. Please forgive me.’

  Seeing the pallor of Miss Sudbury’s cheeks, Lady Feltham tapped her coachman upon the back.

  ‘We are going to Lady Rowington’s. Miss Sudbury will direct you. Let me take you up, Miss Sudbury, since this is clearly an emergency.’

  Lucy thanked her unknown benefactress, and climbed into the barouche as the step was let down.

  ‘Have you had bad news?’

  ‘Yes… no. Oh dear! We have so little time.’

  Half sentences did not make for much sense, and it was only as they drew up before the Rowingtons town house that Lady Feltham gathered that Lady Ledbury stood in danger.

  ‘Thank you, ma’am. I do not even know your…’

  ‘I am coming in with you, child. If this is as I think I may yet be of some use, little though it may be desired.’

  Thus Lucy ran up the steps with Lady Feltham in her wake.

  Charlotte Rowington was on nothing more than bowing terms with Lady Feltham, and was both surprised and a little shocked to see her in her morning room.

  ‘Lucy, what is it? Lady Feltham?’ She looked from one to the other.

  ‘Charlotte, I have the most horrible news.’ Lucy poured out all she had overheard.

  ‘You can be sure the “lady” involved is Louisa Yarningale,’ interjected Lady Feltham, part way through.

  Lady Rowington nodded, her brow furrowed.

  ‘But Kitty Ledbury would have been informed before anyone else if her husband had met with some accident or been taken ill.’

  ‘She ought to have heard first, but if someone you trust comes with such news…’

  ‘Yes. Oh dear.’ Lady Rowington’s hand went to her cheek. ‘I shall order the carriage and…’

  ‘Mine is at your disposal, Lady Rowington. By the time yours is put to, it will be too late for sure. If he has made away with her already then, well, I may be able to prevent Louisa Yarningale’s tongue wagging at the least.’

  ‘And I will send a message to my lord. He will know what to do if… oh dear.’

  With which, Lady Rowington called for her bonnet and gloves and she and Lady Feltham left for Manchester Square. Lucy sat and waited by the window, where she could look down into the street. The carriage returned. She saw her sister exchange words with Lady Feltham and then come swiftly indoors. A minute or two later she entered the morning room.

  ‘Is Rowington home yet, Lucy?’

  ‘No. Is she gone?’

  ‘Yes, some ten minutes before we arrived.’

  ‘Will Rowington go after them?’

  ‘Yes, no, I do not know. He will…’

  ‘I will what?’ Lord Rowington, summoned from his club and in some perturbation at the urgent call home, had taken the stairs two at a time.

  ‘Oh, thank goodness!’ Lady Rowington gave the story as clearly as she could.

  ‘It is dashed difficult. I cannot simply hare after another man’s wife who “may” have been inveigled into a flight to heaven knows where. We ought to contact Ledbury quickly, though I do not know…’

  ‘I do,’ interjected Lucy. ‘Lord Inglesham said he had been called away urgently to Lord Ledbury’s estate and he would not go there if his lordship were absent. I could write a note to him.’

  ‘Good girl. Tell him just what you heard. I will organise a courier. A man on horseback will travel far faster than a post-chaise.’

  ‘But we do not know where Knowle has taken her, Richard.’ Lady Rowington wrung her hands.

  ‘No, but north is likely since if he headed west she would soon be most suspicious, and raise a dust, my love. Lucy, go up and write that letter immediately.’

  Lord Rowington took control.

  *

  Lucy Sudbury’s letter tried to convey the urgency of the situation though it meant there were several crossings out in her note.

  My lord,

  Forgive me writing to you in so rushed a manner, but this is A Matter of Life and Death. I have overheard a Woman, my sister thinks it must be Lady Yarningale, in conversation with Sir Geoffrey Knowle, for she named him, in Hookham’s library. I was on the other side of one of the aisles. There is a Plot to ruin Lady Ledbury. If you are with her lord you must inform him Immediately. I have told my sister who has gone to Ledbury House, but Lady Ledbury has already departed. Sir Geoffrey has, I believe, told her that he has heard that an accident has befallen Lord Ledbury and his life is despaired of. My sister said it is foolishness, for Lady Ledbury would have heard first of such a thing, but now we believe Sir Geoffrey thinks her in such perturbation of nerves that such a ploy would work. From what I overheard, Lady Yarningale will spread the falsehood that Lady Ledbury has fled with Sir Geoffrey for IMMORAL REASONS.

  Lucy bit her lip and paused. It was actually not at all difficult writing about Lady Ledbury’s predicament, but saying anything about how she felt about the addressee put her head in a spin.

  I received your kind note, yesterday. I do so look forward to your return. Lord Rowington is sending this post-haste. He himself will be absent from Town Tuesday next for three
days.

  Respectfully yours,

  Lucinda Sudbury

  It was in the satchel of a courier within half an hour and six hours later in the hand of Lord Inglesham. He read the missive twice, only for a moment letting his features relax as he noted the guileless information that Miss Sudbury’s guardian would not be available for three days the following week. As encouragement it was very genteel, but it was clear in its implication. However much it might incline his heart to sing and his head to spin, he focused on the vastly more urgent information. It was both potentially disastrous and yet also the chance that George Ledbury might need, to reclaim the situation, that is if he could be prevented from rending Knowle limb from limb. He might believe his Kitty could not love him, but he would lay down his life without a thought to rescue her. For perhaps a minute Lord Inglesham wondered how best to inform his friend of the calamity, but swiftly realised that there was nothing better than simply presenting the facts and then restraining the earl from setting off at the gallop without consideration of where his quarry might be run to ground. It was a case of light the fuse and then try and at least direct the rocket. Lord Inglesham had once heard one of his cousins, a young man serving in the Royal Artillery, describe how rockets were a fearsome weapon, but just as likely to cause mayhem among one’s own lines as the enemy’s. He hoped George would not ‘explode’ all over him.

  As it turned out, the earl, after one roar of red-misted rage, was remarkably calm. The string of expletives which followed in a very deliberate tone seemed to purge him of impetuosity.

  ‘Did your Niobe give a time to the abduction?’

  ‘No, but the message was sent immediately, by courier at full gallop, you can be assured of that.’ Lord Inglesham did not comment upon the appellation. ‘Rowington sent if off without any delay. A man on horseback, changing at need, will be some way ahead of a post-chaise, even with a team of four.’

  ‘Kitty will not be suspicious of the speed,’ mused Lord Ledbury.

  ‘No, in fact I would lay you odds she is encouraging it.’

  It was Lord Ledbury’s turn to ignore the tacit implication.

  ‘Then if we head south and ask at every posting house, we must surely intercept them.’

  ‘As long as they stick to the Great North Road. Lady Ledbury would not know it well enough to…’

  ‘She will know it at least into Huntingdonshire.’

  ‘But if she is focused upon the speed rather than the route…’ Lord Inglesham had his doubts, but Lord Ledbury’s view was like that of Lord Rowington.

  ‘We must trust to Knowle heading north to make it seem as if he is heading here. I will kill him, you know that, Henry, if he has harmed her, frightened her.’

  Lord Ledbury yanked the bell so hard it nearly came loose.

  ‘I do not disapprove of the intent, but I may remind you that it could prove awkward, if you wish to conceal what has happened from Society. A corpse is rather… obvious.’

  Just for a moment Ledbury’s face dissolved into panic, then he resumed his grim determination.

  ‘If he has harmed my Kitty…’

  ‘We will find them before he can do so. Come.’

  *

  Kitty had never before wished that horses might fly. It was Sir Geoffrey who held her back, insisting that at Baldock she at least take a cup of coffee and a biscuit, though she thought it would choke her. Her heart never stopped racing, and in her head ran the awful question: ‘What if I am too late?’

  From the moment Sir Geoffrey had been announced and entered the room with such a serious look upon his face, everything had been a nightmare. Lord Inglesham’s letter had said ‘he is desperate’ and it occurred to her that the as yet unspecified life-threatening ‘accident’ might not have been an accident at all. If so, then it truly would be her fault this time, and neither words nor tears would negate the result. She had wrung her hands, and would have run from the house without even a pelisse and bonnet had Syde not almost barred the door until she had the pelisse thrown about her shoulders and the bonnet in her grasp.

  For the first few miles she could say nothing, for her mind was a whirl of fear and regret and yearning. When they had married, her husband had been the one in control of the situation, and his ‘seduction’ of her had maintained that illusion, but gradually she had driven him to behave more and more like a confused child. He had been trying to please her even as he fought to control his desire. What a fool she had been not to see that he had his limits. Poor George. Her heart felt near bursting.

  It was only as they made the change at Barnet that she could begin to think about what exactly she had been told.

  ‘Are you sure there was no more information than it had been an accident, Sir Geoffrey? Oh, not knowing is so hard!’

  ‘I am sorry, but there was but the barest of information. Perhaps more arrived later, but I came immediately to you.’

  ‘Yes, of course. It is odd that a messenger from Lord Inglesham did not come straight to me though.’

  ‘But why would he know even earlier?’ Sir Geoffrey frowned.

  ‘Because he followed my husband yesterday, to Melling Hall.’

  ‘Ah, I see, I did not know that.’ Sir Geoffrey’s frown remained, as he wondered whether this might complicate matters.

  ‘Goodness, do we even know where the calamity occurred? I have assumed at home but… You must too, since we take the Great North Road.’

  ‘Er, yes, I did the same. It would be impossible for him to not be either there or on this road.’

  ‘When will we reach Melling Hall? Can we not change the horses more frequently or…’

  ‘Dear lady, the time gained in the speed of the horses would be lost in the frequency of the changes.’

  ‘And the time?’

  ‘I had hoped between six and seven, but if the horses at the next change are as slow as these…’

  As if this estimate were not frustrating enough, one of the leaders cast a shoe three miles after the next change of horses and they were delayed by an hour while a postillion led it back and obtained a replacement, having assured them it was quicker than making for the smithy in the village two miles ahead.

  Kitty wanted to scream, but contained herself by digging her nails into her palms. Sir Geoffrey saw, and his hand went to stroke his pocket watch.

  *

  Lady Feltham did not think of herself as a vindictive woman, and she bore no grudges, though there were ladies who bore grudges against her. Life, she had decided, was too short to be miserable, and as much fun should be got from it as possible. Only once had she tried to keep the flame of an affair alive when it was guttering, and George Ledbury, well, he had been special, and worth the attempt. She had told Lady Ledbury that she was not a fool, but that had been foolish, merely extending by a few days a doomed romance by the expedient of throwing herself at him, almost literally, at a ball. It had not been dignified, but at least nobody had observed them. She had learned from the mistake, and within a Season was on companionable speaking terms with him. She had never loved him, just desired him, and had come to like him too. Now, she felt she might do him one good turn. He and his nice new wife deserved that.

  She directed her coachman to the Yarningale residence, hoping that Lady Yarningale had gone home after her meeting in the library. She was in luck. The butler declared that her ladyship had arrived home but a quarter hour previously, and offered to take her ladyship’s card up immediately.

  *

  Louisa Yarningale was not thinking clearly, and despite not liking Lady Feltham, was curious enough to instruct the servant to ask her to wait, while she completed her change of raiment. A few minutes later she entered the pink saloon with a smile as false as the colour of her eyelashes, which she darkened with walnut juice.

  ‘Lady Feltham, what a pleasant surprise. May I offer you tea, or…’

  ‘No thank you. It is I who have come to offer something.’

  ‘You have?’

  ‘Yes, L
ady Yarningale. Advice. Strong advice.’

  ‘Really?’ Louisa Yarningale’s fake smile froze. ‘Well, you are obviously rather older and more… experienced, but I doubt any advice you might have for me would be of value.’

  ‘I am not here to trade waspish comments. I am here to tell you that if you breathe a single word of what Geoffrey Knowle has set in motion today, you will live to regret it, mightily.’

  ‘I hardly think that I am overset by this, and besides I am only going to relay the truth. I will not say she has actually run off with him.’ It was pointless to deny that she understood.

  ‘Indeed, just as I will not “actually” tell your husband the details of your liaison with Jasper Tiverton, the one which ended only seven months before the birth of your son.’

  ‘There is no doubt as to Charles’ paternity, Lady Feltham.’

  ‘Oh no, I agree. I have absolutely no doubt who his father is, knowing the dates.’ Lady Feltham’s smile was accompanied by a steely look.

  ‘You would not dare…’

  ‘I would if you let yourself be involved in as nasty a piece of work as I have come across. Think, madam. Knowle would ruin an entirely innocent woman to gain revenge upon her husband for something he will not reveal even to another conspirator. Knowle is an odd fish. In fact now I come to think of it, was not his mother put away for madness?’

  ‘I have no idea and it is of no interest to me.’ Lady Yarningale might have no idea, but she was interested. There had been something in the man’s manner today that unsettled her. ‘I am hardly going to give into blackmail and promise my silence.’

  ‘I do not need promises.’ Lady Feltham was very calm. ‘I have said what will happen, and if one event occurs the other will follow. Now I will wish you good day. Oh, and I do like that Lawrence half-length portrait of you, my dear. He is so clever, is he not?’ With which inferred insult, she left, feeling she had done a good deed and settled several scores.

  23

  Kitty could not say when she began to feel uneasy, but Sir Geoffrey’s manner appeared to change after the first few hours. He lost the solicitous look and instead seemed to be… gleeful. It was the only word that described him and it made her nervous. When she asked again about how he came by the knowledge about her husband, he simply said he had told her already, and then said that the beds at The George in Stamford were always well aired.