by Jenny Hambly
Mr Pavlov’s green eyes brightened for a moment, “I had not realised…” he paused, his hands tightening on the reins. “Then I can only assume that Lady Crouch has higher ambitions for Miss Finchley. This knowledge cannot help me.”
“But I may be able to,” Eleanor said. “I shall pay a call on Miss Finchley and see if I may have some private speech with her. If I find she returns your feelings, I will see what I can do. There is something in Lady Crouch’s past that put her in disgrace with her family, if I can discover what it is, you might find yourself in a firmer bargaining position.”
“I would not wish to gain Miss Finchley because I blackmailed her aunt,” he said, his voice dripping with disapproval. “It would not be gentlemanly to put pressure on Lady Crouch in such a way, nor would it be likely to recommend me to her niece.”
“That is fine talk, Mr Pavlov, but it is not fighting talk,” Eleanor said sternly. “What about the pressure I feel sure Lady Crouch is bringing to bear on her niece? Notions of gentlemanly behaviour like so many other things, are admirable as a general principal, but may not always be applicable in individual cases. Allow me to discover what the case is before you decide what it is right for you to do.”
Chapter 10
Miles had spent an unexpectedly pleasant afternoon. He might be shockingly rusty at cricket, but the practice session had been enjoyable and unexpectedly amusing. Once he set his mind to something, he gave his all. The light-hearted ribbing he had received at the start of the session had been given in such a friendly spirit he had grinned at his own ineptitude, but it had only made him focus all the harder, and before they had called it a day, his natural co-ordination and aptitude in all matters of sport had ensured that he had vastly improved.
He left Lord’s ground in such good humour that even the reflection that his mother had persuaded him to join her party at the theatre that evening could not blight his good humour, even though Milton’s Comus with its theme of a virtuous female withstanding the attempt of a would-be seducer from luring her into vice did not particularly excite him.
He smiled and nodded as he saw Miss Edgcott coming towards him, but she did not appear to have seen him as she turned away and smiled up at a gentleman he did not recognise. He was surprised to discover he felt a little piqued, almost slighted; he was certain she had been looking in his direction. He searched his memory but could not discover anything he had said or done that might have caused her to cut him. No, there was nothing, and on reflection, her eyes had had a rather fixed look about them, as if she were thinking deeply about something. He grinned. What a conceited fellow he was becoming. He was too used to the ladies of his acquaintance falling over themselves to claim his attention on the rare occasions he graced respectable society parties.
He had a feeling that Miss Edgcott was not of their ilk; she had certainly not seemed overly disappointed that they had been forced to postpone their dance. That too had irked him, he realised. It was the strangest thing, but when he had finally fallen into bed not long before dawn, instead of a welcoming darkness it had been her face, lit up by the pleased wide smile she had given him when he had trodden on her dress that he had seen. She seemed to have become a rather elusive itch that he could not quite reach. The sooner he had that dance and relieved it, the better; he was not the type to moon over females.
He returned to his rooms, changed, and sat down to an early dinner before strolling to Berkeley Square. The carriage pulled up in front of the house as he arrived.
“There you are, Miles,” Lady Brigham said, coming through the open door and running lightly down the shallow steps that separated them. “I thought you were going to cry off like your father. He suddenly recalled a dinner he must attend.”
“How very convenient,” Miles murmured.
“Yes, wasn’t it?” Lady Brigham said dryly.
“Well, I am looking forward to it,” Lady Bassington said, following her down the steps on Charles’ arm.
“I believe the last time I went to the play with you, Aunt, you fell asleep halfway through the first act.”
“Nonsense, Miles, your memory is faulty; it was some years ago, after all. I was merely resting my eyes.”
It was not until they were comfortably arranged in his father’s box that it occurred to him that Charles was unusually quiet.
“It is not like you to sit at the back of the box, Charles,” he murmured. “I am surprised you are not scanning the crowds to discover some beauty to search out in the interval.”
“There is no point when I have no time to further my acquaintance with her,” he said, his voice unusually flat. “I leave the day after tomorrow.”
“That has never stopped you before,” Miles said, surprised and a little concerned by this gloomy outlook.
“This time is different somehow,” he said softly. “I have a strange feeling of impending doom.”
Now Miles was seriously alarmed. Charles had always laughed off the dangers of a coming battle, his natural gay spirit and trust in his luck allowing him to preserve a devil-may-care attitude. He was sure that it was these traits that had helped his cousin come through so many dangers largely unscathed and he did not wish him to face his next battle without his customary armour.
“This will not do, Charles. I am afraid that the play we are about to witness is hardly likely to lift your spirits, but we shall escape before the farce and visit some of our old haunts. My father insists that I deserve to enjoy myself a little, but you deserve it so much more. Who knows when you will be in Town again, after all?”
Charles’ smile was a little weary. “I was before you, old fellow. It was that line of thinking which caused me to slip away from the ball just before supper.”
“I wondered where you had disappeared to,” Miles said, a relieved smile curving his lips. “Got a little carried away, did you? Blue ruin?”
Charles nodded.
“You fool. It is not named that for nothing! No wonder you have a fit of the blue-devils. I withdraw my offer; a sound night’s sleep is all you require to put you to rights. I expect you’ve still got a devilish bad head.”
Charles laughed. “I cannot gainsay you, old fellow, but I’m damned if I’ll sit here and let you of all people preach to me.”
“Shh!” Lady Bassington said. “The play is about to start. And don’t either of you think that sitting at the back of the box will enable you to disappear if you find it a dead bore. Charles looks as if he overindulged last night, and I do not wish you to lead him into trouble before he leaves for Belgium, Miles. Besides, I can see Miss Edgcott has joined Lady Somerton’s party, Lady Cranbourne is there too, fine gals all of them. I shall expect one of you to take me to them during the interval.”
“I think it is very unjust of you, Frances, to suggest Miles would lead Charles into trouble; he is far more likely to fish him out of it!” Lady Brigham said, bristling.
Lady Bassington chuckled. “Perhaps so. Now do hush, Julia. It is a rare treat for me to visit the theatre.”
Her request for quiet seemed to extend to everyone but herself, and as the story unfolded, Lady Bassington frequently disturbed the peace with her verbal outbursts.
“Oh, they’ve left her alone in the woods, how foolish, now there will be trouble.”
“How stupid of her to follow a stranger; he may be dressed as a villager, but you mark my words, he will be the villain of the piece.”
“He is quite right of course, I am sure his inclinations are entirely natural, but not when he is trying to corrupt an innocent and must confine her in an enchanted chair. So underhand.”
“Good girl! You stick to your guns! Don’t drink any of that horrid stuff or you’ll be done for. Where are those brothers of yours? Idiots, the pair of them!”
“Here they are at last! It is all very well for attendant spirits and river nymphs to free her, but I can’t help but think that if some knight in shining armour was not to rescue her, it would have been better if she had managed it hers
elf!”
Miles found these comments far more entertaining than the play itself and was so obliged to his aunt for enlivening an otherwise tedious evening, that it was he who led her into the saloon. It was a long gallery, dotted with plinths bearing graceful statues, with crimson covered benches set between them.
“Ah, this is better,” Lady Bassington said, “I can breathe again. It is so terribly stuffy in there. It is to be expected, I suppose; although the theatre is large, there must be thousands of bodies crammed into it.”
“Just so,” Miles agreed. “That is a very elegant cane you have with you, Aunt. Do you have need of it?”
“Of course, I do. I guessed that the gallery would fill with people in a pig’s whisper. Observe.”
Lady Bassington released his arm and made her way towards the nearest bench, leaning heavily upon her stick. The two gentlemen who were lounging there, idly surveying the people emerging from their boxes, immediately rose to their feet, bowed, and moved off.
Lady Bassington sat upon the vacated bench and lifted a brow. “Forward planning, Miles.”
“You are an unprincipled woman!” he said, looking down at her with a smile in his eyes. “Shall I go and find Miss Edgcott?”
Lady Bassington looked past him, lifted her cane, and waved it in the air. “No need, she has seen me.”
Miles turned and saw her walking towards them arm-in-arm with Miss Crabtree. They were both lacking in inches, but Miss Edgcott’s frame was slender and delicate in appearance, whereas Miss Crabtree’s was stockier. They both smiled at him, a look of shared amusement in their expressive eyes.
He bowed before them, returning their smile. “Good evening, ladies. You look as if you are plotting something; should I be worried?”
Miss Crabtree laughed. “Do not be absurd, Lord Allerdale, but I am hoping that you will oblige me by appearing to be fascinated by my conversation for a few moments. I have explained to Miss Edgcott that you understand my situation and so would be sure to help me.”
He glanced at Miss Edgcott and thought he saw a challenge in her eyes. He rose nobly to it. Turning to Miss Crabtree he said, “But I am fascinated by it. I can never guess what you might be about to say.”
He was rewarded by a glowing look of approval from Miss Edgcott before she sat down next to his aunt.
“Do I take it that you are avoiding someone, Miss Crabtree?”
“Mr Everard. He is becoming most particular in his attentions, and nothing I can politely say to him appears to put him off. It must be my dowry, of course. He is talking with my father but he will not bring him over to me if he sees I am in conversation with you as he is only heir to a viscount.”
“Whilst I am happy to be of service, Miss Crabtree, I think you underrate yourself,” Miles said. “Who could not enjoy your frank conversation?”
“I am stupidly tongue-tied with most gentlemen,” Miss Crabtree confided, “for if I ignored society’s dictates and spoke what was uppermost in my mind, I would insult them greatly. That would not do, for it would upset Papa, but it makes it so difficult to put them off.”
“You intrigue me. If you could be honest and tell Mr Everard what you think of him, what would you say?”
“That he is a pompous nodcock and incredibly tedious into the bargain!”
“You are severe, ma’am. Thank goodness for society manners! If a lady could really say what she thought of a gentleman to his face, think of the terrible wounds she could inflict on his consequence with her tongue! It would never do!”
“No, which is why I always search out a spot I might hide in at every function I attend. Papa is becoming quite exasperated with me, which only encourages me, of course.”
“You hope to persuade him to take you home with such tactics, I suppose?”
“Yes, and I think it might just work.”
“I hope for your sake, it does,” Miles said with an amused smile. “It must be most uncomfortable to always be diving behind a curtain or screen in order to avoid someone.”
“You can have no idea!” Miss Edgcott said, sighing. “It is so much easier for men, isn’t it? You usually decide who you will or will not speak to, and if you are not enjoying yourself you can just walk out of the door and go and find something else to do.”
“Not always,” he said, looking over her shoulder.
“Can you see my papa?” she asked him.
“No,” he said.
“Then he has probably returned to our box. I had better join him before his hopes are raised too far. Thank you for talking to me all this time.”
Miles nodded as Georgianna, Lady Cranbourne, and Lady Haverham came up to him.
“Good evening, Allerdale,” Georgianna said. “Did you enjoy your afternoon of cricket? Somerton says you are shaping up nicely.”
“Yes, I did, thank you. But I think I shall go and find Charles before I am corralled into doing anything else by you scheming females!”
“But, Lord Allerdale,” Marianne said, “how else are we to get you stubborn creatures to do as we wish?”
“I can’t imagine,” he said dryly. “But as you managed to persuade one of the most confirmed bachelors of my acquaintance to marry you, Lady Cranbourne, I think I will treat you in particular, with extraordinary caution.”
Marianne looked rather pleased by this but said, “You have no need to, you know, I am not at all subtle.”
Lady Bassington moved along the bench a little and invited the ladies to sit down.
“Are you feeling a little better now, Diana?” Eleanor said quietly, whilst Lady Bassington demanded of Georgianna a blow-by-blow account of the exact nature of the proposal Lord Somerton had made her.
“Yes,” Diana said. “It was only when Lord Sandford directed his quizzing glass at our box that I felt uncomfortable. He stared at me as if he wished to eat me when we were in the park today too.”
“That is understandable,” Eleanor said. “Did I not tell you that you looked particularly beautiful?”
“Yes, but still… and then the play, or poem, or whatever it was, could have been written about him. Not that he has ever tried to constrain me against my will, but I felt like the performance was a sign, almost a proof of his intentions. It is no wonder that I was unnerved, but you were quite right, Lady Somerton and Lady Cranbourne have not left my side, and Lord Sandford is in close conversation with Captain Bassington.”
Eleanor followed her gaze. She was surprised to see a look of consternation on Captain Bassington’s countenance; his nature had seemed so naturally sunny to her that it seemed odd. Her expression lightened as she saw a flash of pink behind the plinth they were standing next to. Miss Crabtree was hiding once again and her papa was striding down the gallery looking this way and that, his expression vexed. Poor Miss Crabtree was likely to receive a dressing down when she did emerge, but she certainly could not do so before Lord Sandford and Captain Bassington finished their conversation.
Lord Allerdale came to her rescue once again, although Eleanor was sure he was unaware of it. He approached them and Captain Bassington nodded at Lord Sandford and moved to meet his cousin. Lord Sandford watched him go for a moment and then also moved away. Miss Crabtree poked her head around the plinth and then emerged, standing for a moment as if she were admiring the statue it held. Eleanor watched her glance quickly at Lord Allerdale and his cousin, a pensive look on her face. She suddenly nodded and moved purposefully towards them, but she was intercepted by her papa.
Judging by the colour that came into Miss Crabtree’s cheeks, he was indeed cross with her. So cross, in fact, that every time she opened her mouth to speak, he shook his head as if he would not let her. Finally, he took her arm and led her towards the end of the gallery where the stairs led down to the entrance foyer. It seemed they would not be staying for the farce. As they passed by, Miss Crabtree threw Eleanor a look which she could not quite decipher. Was it one of entreaty or apology?
“Oh no,” Diana said, “Lord Sandford is coming in
our direction.”
“Do not worry, child, you may leave him to me,” Lady Bassington said.
But Marianne and Georgianna were before her. They rose as one, linked arms, and sallied forth to intercept him.
“Who are they protecting, you, Miss Edgcott, or Lady Haverham?”
“Both, I suspect,” she said softly.
“He is ruthlessly pursuing me,” Diana said, dramatically.
Lord Sandford bowed and made to move past Georgianna and Marianne, but they simply stepped in front of him again. Marianne put a hand on his sleeve, gave him a blinding smile, and began to talk to him in an animated way.
“This is better than the play,” Lady Bassington murmured. “I wish I could hear what she is saying to him.”
“I have no idea,” Eleanor said, a quiver in her voice. “But judging by his glassy-eyed look, nothing at all interesting.”
When Marianne paused for breath, Lord Sandford again bowed, but Georgianna now laid a detaining hand on his sleeve. However, their ploy was ruined when Lord Cranbourne and Lord Somerton suddenly came up to them, both looking rather grim. Lord Sandford acknowledged them both, bowed, and began again to stroll in their direction.
“Walk with me a little, Miss Edgcott,” Lady Bassington said.
“Do not leave me,” Diana squeaked.
“Trust me,” Lady Bassington murmured.
Eleanor rose and took her arm. Lord Sandford was looking straight at Diana, that predatory glint in his eyes again, but as he drew near, Lady Bassington shuffled sideways a couple of steps and put out her stick. He tripped and stumbled forwards, his arms cartwheeling in a most inelegant manner, before he crashed to the floor, almost at Diana’s feet. She did not move, only her wide, startled eyes giving her more animation than the statue next to her. The hum of voices immediately around them stopped, and Lady Bassington’s deep tones filled the silence.