Beatrice Goes to Brighton

by M C Beaton

  Lady Beatrice and Hannah walked out for their usual morning’s swim the next day, a footman behind them carrying their bathing dresses and towels. He was instructed to leave them on the beach and return in a half-hour to collect their wet things.

  The weather was blustery but not too cold. They were the only ladies on the beach. The other members of their sex did not venture into the water unless the day was sunny and the sea calm.

  Benjamin, with Josephine on his arm, came strolling towards the beach where he could keep an eye on Hannah. ‘Where was you earlier?’ demanded Benjamin. ‘I thought you wasn’t coming.’

  ‘Looking for that job,’ said Josephine with a toss of her curls.

  ‘With Sir Geoffrey Handford?’

  Josephine pulled her arm away. ‘And what if I was?’

  ‘Nothing against it,’ said Benjamin with a grin. ‘But don’t it seem odd, you trying to get into a household where the master plans to harm Lady Beatrice?’

  Josephine gave a superior titter. ‘That’s what you think. He’s mad about her.’

  Benjamin put an arm about the maid’s shoulders. ‘Come on, now,’ he said with an indulgent laugh. ‘You don’t know nothing.’

  ‘Suit yourself!’ said Josephine, looking sulky.

  Benjamin drew a guinea from his pocket and held it up so that the gold winked in the pale sunlight. ‘Tell you what,’ he said, ‘you can have this to buy silk ribbons if you tell me what’s afoot.’

  Josephine’s eyes gleamed. She reached for the gold but he laughed and held it high above his head. ‘Come on, now, pretty. Out with it.’

  ‘Oh, all right,’ said Josephine. ‘But you mustn’t tell anyone.’

  Benjamin solemnly crossed his heart.

  ‘I went there this morning,’ said Josephine, ‘for he wanted to know the exact time she was going in the sea. I told him, but I listened at the door when he thought I’d left. He was speaking to that valet of his … Jackson. Seems Jackson’s hired some men to pluck her out of the sea, put her in a boat, and take her to where Sir Geoffrey can talk to her and tell her how much he loves her. If we stand here, we can watch.’

  Benjamin’s mind raced. He was not even aware of Josephine snatching the gold coin from him. He did not believe Sir Geoffrey wanted a romantic meeting. He wanted to abduct Lady Beatrice again, and this time constrain her by force to marry him. And what of Miss Pym? He would want her out of the way.

  Benjamin sprinted down to the water’s edge and began to run up and down like a barking terrier, calling to Hannah. But the wind whipped his words away.

  He looked this way and that for help. And then he saw, far along the beach, Lord Alistair Munro with his valet, preparing for his morning swim.

  Hannah Pym was in seventh heaven. She had discovered that if she paddled her arms energetically enough and took her feet off the bottom and thrashed them about, she could keep afloat for a few minutes. When she rested for a moment, she saw with surprise that a rowing-boat with three men in it was lying a little way out, the men resting on the oars.

  She frowned and began to make her way towards Lady Beatrice. They had better go in so as to avoid the vulgar gaze of these men, who obviously did not know the etiquette of bathing in Brighton, which was that no man should be seen near the ladies’ bathing machines. She then saw to her amazement that her own bathing machine had retreated back up the beach, horse and all. Lady Beatrice’s bathing machine was still there, but of her bathing attendant there was no sign.

  ‘Beatrice!’ shouted Hannah in sudden terror.

  And then someone or something grabbed at her ankles and she felt herself being pulled down under the water.

  Benjamin, back on the shore after having alerted Lord Alistair, saw her disappear. All his terror of the ocean fled. Fully clothed, he waded into the sea. A man had surfaced and had caught Lady Beatrice and was swimming out towards the boat with her, but Benjamin’s fears were all for his mistress. He ploughed doggedly on until the waves were slapping his face. Hannah suddenly surfaced in front of him and he seized her. She was gasping and spluttering, but very much alive. She clung desperately to Benjamin crying, ‘Someone tried to drown me. Lady Beatrice …’

  Benjamin pulled her towards the shore and with a strong arm around her waist dragged her to the safety of the beach, where he laid her down on the shingle. Hannah turned on her side and was desperately sick.

  Lord Alistair was swimming as hard as he could towards Lady Beatrice and her abductor. He knew he had to get to them before they reached the boat. One final powerful stroke brought him up to them. The man let Lady Beatrice go and Lord Alistair raised his fist and struck the man a powerful savage blow on the head, then he dived and caught Lady Beatrice and dragged her to the surface. She began to struggle weakly but she was exhausted, having struggled so long with her captor. ‘It is I, Munro,’ he shouted. ‘Put your arms around my neck and hold tightly and I will get you in.’

  With a feeling of sheer gladness, Hannah saw Lord Alistair swimming strongly for the shore with Lady Beatrice. The man who had tried to abduct her was being pulled aboard the boat by the other men and then they rowed swiftly away.

  Lord Alistair had meant to hand Lady Beatrice into the care of the bathing attendant, but when he reached the machine, there was no one there. He pushed Lady Beatrice forward and up the steps and then followed her up. In the salty darkness of the bathing machine, he picked up a large fleecy towel and wrapped it around her. ‘You had better get dried as quickly as possible,’ he said.

  Lady Beatrice sat down suddenly on the bench at the back of the box. Her teeth were chattering and her face was white. Stark naked, Lord Alistair stood over her and looked down at her with concern. ‘Where is your maid?’ he demanded.

  ‘Left me,’ said Lady Beatrice. ‘Miss Pym? Where is Miss Pym?’

  ‘I shall find out for you.’

  She held out her hand and said simply, ‘Thank you, my lord.’

  He bowed from the waist and courteously kissed her hand.

  Lady Beatrice began to laugh weakly. ‘My lord, you are as naked as the day you were born.’ She stood up. ‘Leave me and I will dry and change.’

  He half turned away from her. Her gown was plastered to her body and her hair was like seaweed and her face was as white as milk and yet he suddenly thought he had never seen anything so beautiful in the whole of his life. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her salty, quivering lips, holding her tightly against his naked body. Then, with a stifled exclamation, he released her, wrenched open the door of the bathing machine, and unhitched the reins of the horse, which were looped over a hook at the side of the door. ‘Walk forward,’ he cried.

  The obedient horse began to turn in the sea and placidly make its way to its station on the beach. He was relieved to see Hannah standing there, supported by Benjamin. It was only when Hannah blushed and turned her head away that he realized what a spectacle he was making of himself, driving a lady’s bathing machine without a stitch on.

  His valet came running up and leaped up on the platform and shrouded his master in towels.

  The sufferers gathered together in Lady Beatrice’s drawing-room two hours later. Hannah reflected that she had never seen either Lady Beatrice or Lord Alistair so grandly dressed or looking so haughty and remote. She wondered just what had happened in that bathing machine.

  ‘The facts as we have them are this,’ said Hannah. ‘The maid, Josephine, has disappeared for good. All her belongings are gone, too. The bathing attendants, that is mine and Lady Beatrice’s, confess freely that they were heavily bribed to make themselves scarce because they were told a gentleman wanted to keep a romantic assignment in the sea. Both said such a thing had happened before. The authorities are searching for those men but evidently with little hope of finding them. Sir Geoffrey was out walking with his mother, nowhere near the beach. He is complaining bitterly that Lady Beatrice, not content with humiliating him with breaking off the engagement, is hell-bent on humiliating him furth
er by claiming he had paid ruffians to abduct her and that it has nothing to do with him. Asked about his valet, he says his valet is on holiday. What are we to do?’

  ‘I could call him out,’ said Lord Alistair.

  ‘A duel? No, that would never do,’ said Lady Beatrice. ‘I could not bear the scandal.’

  He looked at her frostily. ‘There is one fact you may have overlooked, Lady Beatrice. Some interested spectators noticed me entering your bathing box naked. There is already scandal, and to lay such a scandal, I fear you must marry me.’

  There was a long silence. Hannah looked at the couple hopefully. Lady Beatrice was sitting on a backless sofa. She was wearing a green-and-gold-striped gown which showed her splendid figure to advantage. She was so still that the emerald brooch at the neck of her gown glowed with an unwinking dull green fire.

  Then she said in a flat voice, ‘You have done enough, my lord. There is no need for you to sacrifice yourself on the altar of marriage.’

  ‘I think there is every need.’He strode to the window and looked out at the sea, his well-tailored back to her.

  Hannah signalled to Benjamin and both quietly left the room. Hannah went only as far as the outside of the door. She turned and leaned her ear against the panels. Benjamin, already halfway down the stairs, saw her and darted back to join her and put his ear to the door as well.

  ‘It’s awfully quiet in there,’ he whispered.

  ‘Shhh!’ said Hannah fiercely.

  ‘My lord,’ said Lady Beatrice, ‘I know you wish to save my reputation, but reputation in my present circumstances no longer concerns me. I shall live quietly in the countryside somewhere with Miss Pym.’

  ‘Then have a thought to Miss Pym! Your damaged reputation might taint hers.’

  ‘By the end of the week, Brighton will have found something else to talk about. The circumstances were unusual. You saved me, my lord. Everyone knows that. Apart from a few scurrilous tongues, the rest will only admire you. I shall never marry again. And you, my lord, must never feel constrained to marry anyone out of duty.’

  There was a long silence. Each was obscurely hoping that the other would make some move, show some sign of warmth, but Lady Beatrice was frightened of the effect he had on her senses. She had at long last gained freedom. If she gave in to him, she would never know freedom again. He would possess her mind and feelings and thoughts. Lord Alistair thought she had deliberately bewitched him, as she had bewitched so many. He was damned if he would let her know his proposal was prompted by other than duty.

  ‘As you will,’ he said indifferently.

  Lady Beatrice felt a lump rise in her throat. ‘Where on earth is Miss Pym?’ she demanded.

  Hannah opened the door and went in. ‘I had to fetch something,’ she said mendaciously.

  ‘I bid you good day,’ said Lord Alistair. ‘You will no doubt be much occupied during the remainder of your stay in Brighton. Perhaps we may meet again one day.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ said Lady Beatrice, forcing a smile.

  Hannah looked at him miserably. Then she thought of something. As he was making for the door, she said, ‘I am sad that we can no longer count on your protection.’

  He stopped and stood frowning. ‘After today’s episode, I doubt if Sir Geoffrey will ever dare to try anything again.’

  ‘Oh, I think he will,’ said Hannah, growing more cheerful. ‘I should think this set-back will make him more than ever determined to succeed.’

  With something curiously approaching relief, Lord Alistair said slowly, ‘In that case, perhaps I should call on you. How long do you plan to remain here?’

  Hannah looked inquiringly at Lady Beatrice. ‘Only another week,’ she said, ‘if that suits you, Miss Pym. Then I must return to London and sell what effects I can before my parents sell the house.’

  ‘That will be quite all right,’ said Hannah, although the idea of returning to London with the dashing Lady Beatrice did not suit her at all. Always in her mind’s eye was the picture of her little apartment in South Audley Street and of Sir George Clarence sitting on the other side of the tea-table listening to her recount her adventures.

  ‘Perhaps,’ said Hannah firmly, ‘it might be a good idea if you called on us during the coming week, Lord Alistair. I should feel so uneasy and worried were your protection removed from us.’

  ‘I shall be glad to call on you,’ he said. He swept them a low bow and then he was gone. Lady Beatrice buried her face in her hands and suddenly began to cry. Hannah fussed over her, saying she was overwrought, saying she must rest after her ordeal. But Lady Beatrice was crying over her past behaviour, over all the men she had so cruelly led on and then rejected. She wondered whether any of them had felt so desolate as she did now. She wanted Lord Alistair to admire her, to love her, to cherish her, and she felt he never would. The ice around her heart had melted and all she could feel was pain.

  * * *

  Mrs Handford’s bulldog face was a muddy colour. ‘Are you mad, Geoffrey?’ she demanded, not for the first time. ‘Let us leave Brighton and leave Lady Beatrice alone. What if just one of those villains that Jackson hired had been caught and decided to talk. Think of the scandal! You could never hope for a title, and that very knighthood you now seem to hold so cheap would be taken from you.’

  ‘I covered my tracks,’ he growled. ‘Did I not send Jackson off on leave directly he had set the matter up?’

  ‘But that maid, Josephine. What if she were found?’

  ‘She won’t be,’ he said tersely. ‘I told her what would happen to her if she opened her mouth. Why must the silly wench go blabbing to that footman of Miss Pym’s?’

  ‘Because we did not think she would go about listening at doors and that is what she must have done; else why would that footman have been alerted in time to call Lord Alistair to the rescue? Let the matter drop, my son. Lady Beatrice is not for you.’

  ‘I want her,’ he said passionately. ‘Cannot you realize that? And I mean to have her. I am rich. Men can be bribed, and yes, even justices, should things go wrong.’

  ‘What of Lord Alistair Munro? He has powerful friends, and among those powerful friends is the Prince of Wales. It was said that Lord Alistair was naked in her bathing box!’

  Sir Geoffrey’s face darkened. ‘I’ll find some discreet way to put him out of commission.’

  His mother shrank back in her chair. She was beginning to fear for her son’s sanity and cursed Lady Beatrice from the bottom of her heart.

  With the departure of the Prince of Wales and his entourage from Brighton, gossip about Miss Pym quickly died. She had not been invited to the Marine Pavilion, she had not followed him to London, there was much more exciting gossip about the prince’s current mistress, Lady Jersey, and so people no longer turned to stare when she went past. Monsieur Blanc refused to talk about Miss Pym. The ball gown had been returned to him in perfect condition and the terrible footman had not betrayed the secret of the dressmaker’s nationality, and so Monsieur Blanc was anxious to distance himself from a lady whose footman had the power to ruin him.

  Only Letitia Cambridge was still interested in Miss Pym’s comings and goings, although she did not tell her friends this. She did, however, call on Mrs Handford and warmly pressed that lady’s hand and sympathized with her over her ‘poor’ son’s broken engagement. ‘He is not to be blamed,’ said Mrs Cambridge. ‘Neither is Lady Beatrice. The fault, I am convinced, lies with that female, Miss Pym. Mark my words, she has poisoned Lady Beatrice’s mind against Sir Geoffrey.’

  And forgetting that Lady Beatrice had never wanted to marry her beloved son, Mrs Handford listened eagerly, for surely it was Miss Pym who had persuaded Lady Beatrice to disobey her parents.

  ‘All poor Geoffrey wants,’ said Mrs Handford, ‘is an opportunity to see Lady Beatrice alone. You must admit, Mrs Cambridge, he is vastly handsome, and I am sure he would succeed in wooing her were he allowed a few moments in private with her. And what of Lord Alistair Munro? Naked in
her bathing box!’

  ‘As always,’ said Mrs Cambridge sourly, ‘Lord Alistair has the ear of the influential, and so there is no scandal. Instead he is hailed as a hero for having rescued her. But you have nothing to fear, dear Mrs Handford. Everyone knows Lord Alistair to be a confirmed bachelor.’

  ‘Nonetheless,’ said Mrs Hanford uneasily, ‘why does he remain in Brighton with the prince gone?’

  Mrs Cambridge patted one of Mrs Handford’s fat be-ringed hands. ‘He never did follow the prince. I am anxious to help you in any way I can.’

  Mrs Handford did not find this behaviour at all strange, although she should have, considering the fact that Mrs Cambridge had gone out of her way in the past to cut the Handfords socially. ‘If only you could,’ she said.

  ‘I could watch them,’ said Mrs Cambridge eagerly, ‘and let you know when Lady Beatrice is alone, and then you could tell Sir Geoffrey to make his call.’

  ‘We would be most indebted to you,’ said Mrs Handford warmly. She knew her son had already tried to find another servant in Lady Beatrice’s household to give him information, but without success.

  Mrs Cambridge threw herself into her new role of spy with enthusiasm. She wore a dark gown and pelisse and a heavy veil for the purpose of following Miss Pym and Lady Beatrice. After one exhausting day, she reflected sourly that the couple seemed to be inseparable. Not only that, but they were followed everywhere by that footman of Miss Pym’s.

  But on the second day, she had better luck. In the afternoon, Hannah emerged alone. The veiled figure that was Mrs Cambridge, followed by her veiled maid, set off in pursuit. Hannah stopped for a moment to look out to sea. She had not been bathing since her adventure. She wondered if she would ever have the courage to go into the sea again. She was once more lashed into her stays and a little piece of whalebone had worked itself loose from the cloth and was digging painfully into the soft flesh under her armpit. She glanced back and noticed two heavily veiled women watching her. They looked odd against the background of the green-and-blue sea, two still, mourning figures with noisy sea-gulls wheeling about them.