Satyr’s Son: A Georgian Historical Romance (Roxton Family Saga Book 5)

by Brant, Lucinda

  “Mr. Banks! I hardly recognized you. How quickly boys grow into men.”

  Jamie Fitzstuart-Banks smiled and flushed. He made her a short bow.

  “The pleasure is mine, Miss Crisp. You have not changed at all.”

  Lisa laughed. “Oh dear! Should I be worried?” she teased.

  “I always thought you the prettiest girl to ever step outside the gates of Blacklands,” he stated. “Most importantly for me, you were the cleverest.”

  As ever with him, he was frank, with no hint of flirtation in his words or manner. He treated her as he found her, and he had never defined her by her sex. She was someone he could talk to about his interests, which was possibly why she had always been comfortable in his company.

  “Would you care to take a walk, Miss Crisp?”

  She could see no harm in taking a stroll with him, now nuncheon was over, and Teddy was deep in conversation with The Horribles and a couple of other guests with whom she was not yet acquainted. Besides, she wanted to hear all his news, and they could not talk freely while Vi and Meg had an ear to their conversation.

  “I would like that very much. Let me fetch my hat.”

  They exited the marquee without another word or look at the other young people congregated in the shade, Lisa with her wide-brimmed straw hat secured by a silk ribbon tied in a bow about her coil of braids at her nape. She held her tumbler of punch at her bodice, and Jamie walked beside her with his hands clasped behind his back, shirtsleeves rolled to the elbow, and waistcoat unbuttoned and hanging loose because he was still feeling the effects of the summer’s day after his stint at the crease.

  Soon they were so deep in conversation while strolling the perimeter of the cricket field, recalling their school days and visits to the Chelsea Bun House, that neither noticed how far they had strayed from the marquee, or that it was almost time for the game to resume and Jamie to return to the field with Bully Knatchbull to continue batting. Nor were they aware of the attention they had attracted, not only from the marquee where their mutual friends were gossiping amongst themselves, but also from senior members of the Roxton family. And one member in particular, whose brooding silence was nothing new to his family, but whose preoccupation with Miss Lisa Crisp was being keenly monitored, not only by his brother and his mother, but by his best friend.

  “I MUST CONFESS,” Jamie said with a diffident smile, “that when Teddy wrote and told me your whereabouts had been discovered, I was overjoyed, for you both, but also for myself. You did not take your leave of me. In fact, you disappeared from Blacklands so thoroughly it was as if you had not been there at all.”

  Lisa was contrite. “I am sorry I was unable to say my farewells. I was not permitted to leave you a letter. I did think of writing to you at Banks House. I knew your family would pass on a letter from me but… I thought it best for you that I cut all ties.”

  He stopped in the shadows of a stand of shade trees and looked down at her. But as he could not see her face he bent his knees to peer under the brim of her hat.

  “But—Miss Crisp—”

  “Lisa. And I have called you Jamie since our school days. That should not change, surely, now we are older?”

  “Yes, of course. Lisa. Why would cutting ties be best for me? We were good friends. No! We were the best of friends. I’ve never known a friend quite like you. Apart from my mother, who listens as only a mother can, you were the only other person who encouraged my wish to become a physician. Did you think your expulsion from Blacklands would change our friendship?”

  She shook her head and tilted her chin up so he could stand straight and still see her face.

  “No. But I knew that if you discovered why I had been expelled you would do something chivalrous, and that would be foolish. I could not allow you to jeopardize your schooling. You are by far the cleverest boy—excuse me—young man—I know. And you must fulfill your wish to be a physician. Tell me: You have now graduated from your Physic Garden apprenticeship, have you not?”

  He smiled. “I have. And I know this will mean something to you—” His smile widened into a grin. “I was awarded the Hans Sloane medal for my efforts.”

  “Oh, Jamie! That is wonderful news! Such wonderful news.” She set the tumbler at her feet and clapped her hands, and impulsively gave his arm a squeeze. “I am so proud of you!”

  He grabbed her hand and held it for a moment.

  “I knew you would be pleased for me. Thank you.”

  “Your parents must be so proud, too.”

  “They are. I do believe I am the first person in my mother’s family to gain a qualification. As for Papa… His Lordship laughed out loud. Not in a derogatory way, because he has always been supportive of my scientific endeavors, but because, as he said, if he had managed to sit still in a schoolroom for more than five minutes, his tutors would’ve given him a medal.”

  “And your stepfather, the botanist. He must be pleased to have another scientist in the family.”

  “He is. And two of my brothers have followed in my footsteps and are now apprenticed at the Physic Garden. But the person who showed the most enthusiasm, just like you, is my step-mama—”

  “Lady Strathsay?”

  Jamie nodded. “Do you remember me telling you about Her Ladyship’s cultivation of the pineapple? I think she secretly hoped I would further my studies in botany and perhaps take on the curation of her pinery.”

  “If only so you could be nearer to your father, and to be better known to your half-brothers and sister perhaps?”

  Jamie’s brow cleared. “I’d not thought of that… There may be some truth in it…”

  “And now you have completed your apprenticeship, I hear you are still keen to pursue your medical studies?”

  “My determination has not changed. And I am happy to report that I have been accepted to Glasgow University’s medical school, and will depart for the north in the autumn.”

  “I am so happy for you. I know how much you wanted this. I trust your family are reconciled to your choice of vocation and are supportive?”

  “They are. And although Papa was a military hero, he has no wish for any of his sons to go into the army. But I am not convinced he sees medicine as the ideal vocation for the son of a nobleman, regardless of my irregular birth. Law or the Church, or even the Foreign Office would be his preference. And he no doubt could’ve got me in the door with one word. But he is not against my choice, and has agreed to fund my studies.”

  “I am glad for you he has,” Lisa assured him. “There is so much work to be done in every facet of medicine, that your scientific mind cannot be lost to any other sphere of knowledge,” she added seriously, warming to her topic. “And I hope that with his son studying medicine, Lord Strathsay—and indeed your Roxton relatives—will take a greater interest in medical science. Much could be achieved if only those in positions of power and influence, and who have the means, chose to become patrons of such worthwhile medical endeavors.”

  “Well said, Miss—Lisa! You always were passionate about helping those less fortunate than ourselves.”

  “Oh, do forgive me if I am lecturing,” Lisa apologized with a light laugh. “I suppose it is because I know from experience what it is to go without. And I have heard firsthand about the pitiable funding meted out to medical research from Dr. Warner’s breakfast lectures.”

  “When Teddy confided you’d been helping in Warner’s dispensary for the sick poor, I admit I was not surprised. Your concern for the plight of the poor combined with your interest in my chosen vocation, I often wished if any one person could attend medical school with me, it was you.”

  “You will make a far better physician than I ever could. As I said to Teddy, I have no stomach for anatomizing, whereas, if I remember correctly, you took great delight in telling me how you investigated the internal organs of a cow your grandfather had just slaughtered—”

  “A sheep. Ha! Yes! Your face went green, though you did make an effort to remain interested. I
must have been a dead bore at times.”

  “Never a bore. Though I could have had less description on how you pulled out its entrails while they were still warm and moving to investigate the contents of its stomach.”

  They laughed, and in his joy at their renewed easy-going camaraderie, which he had missed since their school days, and because he had always considered her like a sister, he confided, “You may decry the lack of patronage for medical science by our social superiors, but it should please you to know that there are those amongst my esteemed noble relatives who already do take a concerted interest in its advancement. I’ve been sworn to secrecy, but I will break my confidence for you because I know how much it will mean to you. I’ve been offered a position upon enrolment in my medical studies as a trustee of the Fournier Foundation, a foundation that—

  “—provides funds to physicians who tend to the sick poor, and to anatomical schools. Yes, I am intimate with the foundation’s work. Dr. Warner has applied for such funding, and I had the opportunity to meet a number of the trustees.”

  “Then you are aware the foundation is wholly financed by the Duke of Roxton’s brother—”

  “—Lord Henri-Antoine?” Lisa interrupted, and hoped in her surprise her voice remained steady. “I had a suspicion… Though I was unaware it was his wealth alone that provided the means for the foundation to function.”

  “His Lordship was willed an enormous inheritance by his father, it is said because he knew his son would never be able to pursue the usual careers open to second sons due to his affliction. You are aware—”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. I assumed, as Teddy’s friend, you would. It’s the family’s open secret. Everyone knows about it but no one ever mentions it. I remember as a boy asking why His Lordship is followed everywhere he goes by Goliath-like brutes, and why no one else noticed them lurking about in the shadows. I guess I thought I had conjured them up! Papa set me straight.”

  “And His Lordship has taken you into his confidence about the Fournier Foundation…?”

  “He did. Only recently. Once he learned I was off to Glasgow. I suppose he wanted to be certain I was serious about pursuing a career in the medical profession.”

  “I’m so glad he did. Having a student physician on the board is an excellent idea. For how else can the trustees know the plight of medical students if not from a student himself?”

  “Do you know, that’s what he—what Lord Henri-Antoine said! He has this idea of offering scholarships to students identified as outstanding candidates to study as physicians but who are struggling to pay their way. And once they finish their studies, they would be bonded to a dispensary or a hospital for a number of years, as a way of repaying the foundation for its financial assistance. I already know a couple of fellows who could greatly benefit from such a scheme.”

  Lisa smiled and nodded, and was suddenly inexplicably touched to learn Henri-Antoine was intent on implementing such a scheme.

  “That is—that is such a worthwhile use of the foundation’s funds… I am—I am so glad to hear it. I hope—I hope he is able to find the funds to implement such scholarships—”

  “Oh, don’t you worry about that!” Jamie said with a grin. “The interest alone from the capital he invested provides over two thousand pounds annually for the foundation’s work. And that’s without touching the interest from the principal he himself can draw on to live. So I should think Lord Henri-Antoine will be able to do whatever he wants without any hardship whatsoever, don’t you?”

  Lisa’s eyes widened. She could barely comprehend such a staggering sum in interest, so she found herself incapable of calculating the principal, or even wanting to. She had surmised that Henri-Antoine was wealthy, but not to what extent. Somehow it seemed impolite and too personal to dwell on such particulars. But she did wonder how Jamie had come by such figures, and he told her without her even having to ask.

  “My goodness!” she muttered. “I had no idea…”

  “Not many do. He didn’t tell me. Why would he? I overheard my father and His Grace discussing the foundation, and of course my ears pricked up. But I know you would never break a confidence—”

  “Never…” She looked up at him. “I think it for the best if you not mention to anyone that we discussed the foundation, or that you know anything about Lord Henri-Antoine’s personal finances. For his sake, as much as your own…”

  He made her a small bow. “You have my word.”

  She nodded and smiled. “Perhaps we should head back…? Won’t you be called soon to resume playing?”

  “Yes! Yes! We must! I’d forgotten all about the match.”

  He picked up her empty tumbler, and kept hold of it so she would not have to carry it, and they turned and started back the way they had come, Jamie walking on Lisa’s right to shield her from the sun.

  “I cannot tell you how many times I went to the bun house in the hopes of seeing you there,” he confessed. “I wished by some miracle of circumstance you might appear. I bought countless buns in the hopes you would…”

  “There were many times when I too wished to visit the Chelsea Bun House, just to see if you, too, were there. But you must believe me that it was for the best that I stayed away.”

  They walked on in companionable silence and when they were just a few feet from the shade of the marquee, Jamie turned to Lisa, back to the huddle of persons who were watching them intently.

  “I wonder if you would do me the honor of allowing me to write to you from Glasgow?”

  “I would like that very much.”

  “But you aren’t going to tell me what happened that forced you to leave Blacklands, are you?”

  Lisa untied the ribbons of her straw hat and removed it, saying with a smile up at him and a shake of her head, “It is unimportant. What is, is that we have found one another again, and we can continue our friendship.”

  “Oi! Banks!”

  It was Bully Knatchbull, and he had stepped out of the shade of the marquee with a cricket bat under each arm. He made Lisa a quick bow of acknowledgment and then thrust one of the bats at Jamie.

  “Come on! The game awaits, and our captain wants a word…”

  SEVERAL OF THE female guests, Violet Knatchbull and Meg Medway amongst them, followed the players to the edge of the playing field where preparations were taking place in readiness to resume the match, directly in front of the marquee where sat the most senior members of the Roxton family. And as they fluttered their fans in the summer sunshine, chatting amongst themselves and pretending a disinterest in the game, their admiring sidelong glances from under their straw hats were directed at both teams, who were in close proximity. The plethora of manly physiques were shown to advantage in knitted breeches and shirt fronts without cravats, and sleeves rolled to the elbow allowed for plenty of bare skin, increasing the tempo of fan-fluttering.

  Bully Knatchbull and Jamie Fitzstuart-Banks were in conversation with Lord Strathsay, while Jack, who had the ball, was talking with his captain, Freddy, Lord Alston. This left Lord Westby and Henri-Antoine, who were preparing on the fringe of the group, to be pounced on by Vi and Meg. They were encouraged to come closer by Lord Westby, not because he was interested in flirting with either of them, but because he sought to use them to gain his revenge on Lord Henri-Antoine. He had waited this opportunity for a very long time, and he was certain he now had the means by which to cause his friend the kind of angst he had experienced when Henri-Antoine’s brazen affair with Peggy Markham had turned him into a cuckold.

  He had noticed Lisa from almost the moment she had appeared at the cricket match, and made enquiries about the fetching little beauty. But it was what Vi and Meg confided about the girl to anyone who would listen, coupled with Henri-Antoine’s interest—all through nuncheon he had sat in brooding silence watching Jamie Fitzstuart-Banks and Miss Crisp stroll the lawn’s perimeter—that set him on his present course of action. He glanced at Henri-Antoine now, and sure enough, his gaze was f
ixed on the girl—if that wasn’t infatuation, he didn’t know what was! Knowing Vi and Meg were within earshot, he asked in a loud, but noncommittal tone,

  “Jack! I say! Who’s the pretty wisp of a thing talking to your bride?”

  Jack looked up from inspecting the cricket ball, handed it to Freddy and came over to join Henri-Antoine and Seb Westby. He followed Westby’s gaze across to Teddy and Lisa, but before he could ask him to repeat his question, Violet Knatchbull answered.

  “I told you, Westby. She’s the poor girl who was at Blacklands with us—”

  “—and got herself expelled,” stuck in Meg Medway with a snigger.

  “However did she manage to do that?” Westby asked with feigned surprise, a glance at Henri-Antoine. “She don’t look the type to get herself into trouble… And being a pauper, she couldn’t afford to, could she? Whereas you, my dear Vi,” he drawled and winked at Bully Knatchbull’s sister, “are all sorts of trouble, you and Meg both. And no doubt cost your papas a pretty penny to get you out of trouble, too.”

  Both girls giggled and appeared bashful behind their fluttering fans.

  “She’s not worth your effort, Westby,” Henri-Antoine stated flatly, tearing his gaze from Lisa and pretending an interest in adjusting the diamond-encrusted shirt buckle keeping his shirt front closed.

  Westby put up his brows. “Is she not, Harry? And you would know this—how?”

  “Jamie Fitzstuart-Banks certainly thinks she is,” stuck in Meg with a smug smile, and yet when Henri-Antoine glared at her, dropped her smile and her gaze.

  “Why would Banks think—” Westby began and was cut off.

  “You’re becoming a bore, Westby,” Henri-Antoine enunciated coldly.

  Jack looked from Henri-Antoine to Seb and back again, and hissed at his best friend’s ear, “What’s going on? What pauper? Who was expelled from what?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Henri-Antoine said through his teeth. “Drop it.”

  “I caught her kissing Jamie Banks behind the Chelsea Bun House!” Violet burst out in a much louder voice than she intended, and gave an involuntary nervous laugh.