Mary Nichols - Talk of the Ton

‘James, you sent that boy off on his travels without telling Beth and—’

‘That was the whole point, to separate them, you know that. Their association was becoming unhealthy.’

‘Fustian! They are friends, more like brother and sister, and she wanted to be part of his adventures—’

‘Good God! She did not think she could go too, did she?’

‘No, of course not. She wanted to be part of the planning, to say goodbye to him and see him off. She was afraid he might think she had connived at sending him away so abruptly and she wished to reassure him…’

‘So, what did she do?’

She took a deep breath. ‘She dressed as a boy and took the stage to London and a cab to the docks.’

‘Harriet would never so far forget herself as to allow that—’ He stopped speaking suddenly. ‘Oh, I see, Harriet did not know. So, what was Miss Andover doing?’

‘She didn’t know of it either. Beth travelled alone.’

‘Good God!’ he said again. He turned to Andrew. ‘And how came you to be involved, sir?’

‘I saw her endeavouring to board the ship, your Grace, and undertook to acquaint Mr Kendall of her presence. He told me he thought she had followed him in order to share his adventure and of course he knew that was not to be thought of and asked me to bring her here.’

‘You knew she was not a boy?’

‘Almost immediately.’ He smiled at the memory. ‘She looked very fetching, but I do not think anyone could be deceived.’

At that point two servants arrived with trays, one bearing an urn and all the accoutrements for making tea and the other some plates laden with cakes and pastries, which were set down on a table beside the Duchess. The conversation was halted as she set about offering their guest food and drink. She took a cup of tea for herself, but the Duke declined.

James watched Andrew dealing politely with his wife and wished it could have been anyone but Andrew Melhurst who had found Beth. The man had left England after a scandal of some sort, though he could not remember the details, but if past follies were attached to this present situation, he feared for Beth’s reputation.

‘Were you seen?’ he asked.

Andrew, in the middle of biting into a delicious honey-filled pastry, gave him a sharp look. The Duke was only echoing what he himself had said to Miss Harley, but it was one thing to acknowledge the problem to himself and mention it to her, quite another when someone else pointed it out to him as if it had all been his fault. ‘The docks were very busy, your Grace, I have no idea who saw us. I hope no one of importance…’

‘And when you arrived here?’

‘Oh, James, do not quiz the poor man like that,’ Sophie said. ‘He has done his best to do the right thing and bring Beth to us. He left her in the carriage and I went out with a cloak to fetch her in. No one saw us.’

James, who had been prepared to dislike the man, found himself revising his earlier opinion. A less scrupulous man might have taken advantage of the situation. ‘Then I must thank you, sir, for your discretion. If her reputation was to be sullied by this adventure, I fear she would find it difficult to take her place in society and make her curtsy. As for finding a husband…’ He stopped, realising he had been thinking aloud and such problems were nothing to do with the man who faced him. ‘I am sorry, it is not your fault you have been unwittingly caught up in our problems.’

‘If Miss Harley’s good name is brought into question, then I will do the honourable thing, your Grace.’ Whatever made him say that? Andrew asked himself. The idea of marrying the lady had never crossed his mind until the words came out of his mouth.

James smiled. No doubt he would. The niece of one of England’s foremost Dukes would be quite a catch for the grandson of a mere baron. ‘I do not think that will be necessary,’ he said quite sharply and then relented. ‘I mean…you have managed to bring her here with the minimum of fuss and we can find a way of accounting for her arrival ahead of her mother and sister. All will be well, I am sure.’

‘But we do, indeed, thank you,’ the Duchess put in, smiling. ‘I had expected Beth to come down and thank you herself…’

‘She has thanked me already,’ Andrew said. ‘I would not wish to put her to the blush by having to repeat it. I did only what any gentleman worthy of the name would do.’ He put his cup down and rose to bring the interview to an end. He felt uncomfortable, as if he were being quizzed as a potential suitor, when all he had wanted to do was hand over the hoyden and take his leave.

The Duchess rose too. ‘Mr Melhurst, are you, by chance, on your way to your grandfather’s house? I collect it is near Newmarket.’

‘Yes, your Grace.’

She smiled. ‘And no doubt hoped to be halfway there by now.’

Andrew bowed to acknowledge the truth of this. ‘It is of no consequence,’ he said politely.

‘I hesitate to ask another favour of you,’ she began, making her husband look sharply at her, eyebrows raised in enquiry. ‘But I know my sister-in-law will be beside herself with worry. Would you, could you, call at Beechgrove on your way and set her mind at rest? I know it is an imposition—if it is inconvenient, please say so.’

‘It will be my pleasure, your Grace.’ He endeavoured to sound cheerful about it. It was not so much that it would mean taking a small detour, but that he would still be embroiled in the doings of Miss Elizabeth Harley and at the beck and call of the Duke and Duchess of Belfont. Were they so pessimistic about finding the chit a husband they had to drag one in off the street? He felt as though he were being used and he did not like the feeling at all.

‘Please tell Lady Harley that we will keep Beth here with us,’ the Duchess went on. ‘But it would be advisable if she were to bring forward her own arrival in London so that it may look as though they all arrived together.’

‘I will do that, your Grace,’ he said and took his leave before she could suggest any other errands for him to do.

He passed out of the room and on to the gallery. He paused outside the door, thankful to have escaped, and made for the top of the stairs to the ground floor. A movement, a sound—he was not afterwards sure which it was—made him look up. Above him, at the head of the stairs, stood a vision in green, one hand on the balustrade, one slippered foot poised above the top step, ready to descend. This was no hoyden dressed in male attire, no untidy miss with dark hair tumbling down beneath an over-large tricorne hat, this was a woman of poise and breathtaking loveliness. The gown swirled about her legs, its tightly fitted bodice revealing a figure no less than perfect. Her hair had been twisted up into coils that emphasised a pale and slender neck. She was staring down at him, as if uncertain whether to descend.

He smiled and bowed. ‘Miss Harley, your obedient.’

‘Mr Melhurst.’ Her foot went back beside the other one. She did not want to go down to him, did not want the humiliation of having to express her gratitude all over again. It would not have been so bad if he had not been so insufferably arrogant. But she could not turn away. His eyes, appraising her, held her mesmerised.

A servant came along the corridor and disappeared into the room he had just left and in a flash she had fled and he was left staring at nothing. Smiling, he descended to the ground floor where the footman who had admitted him rose from his chair to open the front door for him.

He continued to smile as he was driven away. He had been wrong to think of Miss Harley as a chit, only lately out of the schoolroom; it was that strange garb which had made her seem so young. In that exquisite dress she looked poised and mature enough to be already out. There was no need for the Duke and Duchess to drag suitors in from the street, they must be flocking round her. His amused condescension had taken a strange and disturbing turn. He found himself wishing he was not heading for Newmarket.

‘Sophie, whatever were you thinking of, asking Mr Melhurst to go to Beechgrove?’ James asked. ‘I could have sent a courier with a note. We are indebted to him enough as it is.’

‘Oh, he did not mind.’

‘Whether he minded or not, is not the point. Why did you do it?’

‘He is a very fine gentleman, don’t you think? And aware of the delicacy of the situation. And servants talk…’

‘Not ours, or they would not be in my employ.’

She ignored that. ‘And he did offer.’

‘To go to Beechgrove? I did not hear him say so, until you asked him.’

‘Not to go to Beechgrove, I did not mean that. I heard you talking to him before I came in. He said he would do the honourable thing.’

‘You did not take that seriously, surely?’

‘Why not? He is handsome and wealthy, judging by the equipage he arrived in, and your father knew his grandfather, so he must be of some consequence.’

‘What is that to the point? We know nothing about him. I seem to remember some scandal which made it necessary for him to leave the country.’

‘Pooh, to that. You forget my papa had to do the same thing and you did not hold that against me.’

He laughed. ‘That was not your fault.’

‘And whatever it is may not have been Mr Melhurst’s fault. You should not judge him before you know the truth, James.’

He laughed suddenly. ‘And supposing Beth is not compliant. She is a true Dersingham and a more stubborn one I have yet to meet. She will not be driven.’

‘Oh, James, credit me with a little more sense than that. I am merely making it possible for the acquaintanceship to blossom. Harriet is bound to be grateful and will invite him to call again.’

‘On the other hand, the gentleman might consider Beth too much of a hoyden for his taste and decline.’

‘He has seen the worst of her and now we must show him the best. I do not consider Beth a hoyden, she is intelligent and spirited and very beautiful when she is properly dressed.’

‘And is she properly dressed now?’

‘I believe so. I left her with Rose who has found one of my gowns for her.’

‘Then send for her.’

‘You are not going to give her a jobation, are you, James? She knows how bad she has been and is full of remorse. Scolding her will not make her more compliant—it might even drive her to be more outrageous.’

‘I cannot ignore what she has done.’

‘No, but be gentle with her, James. If it had not been for you sending Toby away as if he had caused some dreadful scandal, she would not have felt misused.’

‘I was endeavouring to prevent a scandal.’

‘Beth is not in love with Mr Kendall, James, there was nothing improper in their relationship. She finds him interesting because of his love and knowledge of botany, a passion she shares. You should talk to her about it, you might be surprised at how much she knows on the subject.’

‘You are telling me I have made a mull of it.’

She laughed lightly. ‘I would not dare to criticise the great Duke of Belfont, known for his wisdom and good sense. Why, even the King listens to your advice.’

He smiled at her flummery and turned as the door opened and Beth made her way into the room and curtsied before him, bending her head very low so that he could only see the shining top of her coiffure.

‘Sit down, Beth,’ he commanded. ‘I am glad to see you safely here.’

She sat and waited.

‘You must be hungry,’ Sophie said, ringing the hand bell at her side.

‘A little.’ She was more than a little hungry—she had not eaten since the evening before and she was ravenous. It was why she had taken her courage in her hands and come down. Even then she had paused outside the door before entering and it was how she came to hear all their conversation. She was disappointed in her aunt. Not only had she seen fit to tell the Duke everything, she seemed to be determined to marry her off to Mr Melhurst and that was something she would never consider, even though he appeared to have offered. Surely one short ride in an enclosed coach had not compromised her reputation to such an extent?