Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
REUNIONS
Georgiana was sitting in Darcy’s back parlour when Richard arrived.
He had not seen her since before he left for Bermuda more than two years ago, and he had to look twice to recognise her.
Gone was the little girl with long tresses, big eyes, and child-like behaviour.
In her place was a handsome young woman, fully grown and tall, her hair piled atop her head and her manners perfect.
She rose gracefully from her seat as he walked in and curtseyed as she had been so carefully taught.
“Cousin Richard,” her voice was perfectly modulated.
“Georgie!” He threw all propriety to the wind and strode across the compact space to enfold her in a great hug.
“How you have grown! I should hardly know you now. Turn around for me that I may see you better! Your brother has been spending his purse on your wardrobe. Even I can see that gown is the latest fashion! When did you arrive in Town?”
This flurry of questions and comments was answered in like manner, and the two cousins sat down for a long chinwag.
They had always been favourites with each other, and Georgie seemed as delighted at the reunion as was Richard.
When Darcy entered some time later, they scarcely acknowledged his presence, so engrossed were they in their conversation.
It was only when a lady of middle years entered the room with the maid bearing the tea tray that Richard drew his attention from Georgiana.
This other lady was introduced as Georgie’s companion, Mrs Annesley.
She was everything pleasant and polite and had an air of such respectability about her that no hint of scandal could ever attach itself to her or to her charge.
Richard could detect the germ of Georgie’s new womanly behaviour in Mrs Annesley’s easy but proper manners, and he mentally lauded Darcy for the selection of such an exemplary woman as Georgiana’s companion.
The four talked comfortably. Georgiana spoke of the art galleries and museums they had visited since their return to Town two days before, and of the lessons at the pianoforte she would begin on Tuesday next with the young German master her brother had engaged.
There were few concerts to attend at this time of the year, she lamented, since so many of the Ton were returning to their country estates, but then her eyes brightened as she spoke on.
“Mr Clementi and Mr Attwood, and so many others are said to be establishing a Philharmonic Society,” Georgie enthused.
“It will provide a program of concerts of the highest quality. We shall have a permanent orchestra, something London has not seen before. They plan to begin performances after the next new year! Is this not exciting? Will, please tell me we can procure a subscription. I should so love to attend their first concerts.”
They spoke of music for a time, and of the potential in this new society, until Richard begged their forgiveness for his departure. “I must make a call on a matter of business, but I shall return for dinner.” This was granted, and soon he was back in the narrow laneway outside Mr Lyons’ office.
Lyons was amazed to hear Richard’s account of finding Weekes in Brighton.
He slapped the heel of his hand against his forehead.
“How could I not have thought of this? I had considered that Weekes might try his hand at disguise. I certainly take to dyeing this lot brown often enough,” he added, running a hand through his red hair, “but I had no way of knowing what he had done. But to have absconded first to Hertfordshire! It had not occurred to me to seek him out amongst the militia. He must be using a different name. But now I shall find him, you may depend on it!”
“The militia are encamped at Brighton through the summer. Colonel Forster is the commanding officer. I have a letter of introduction for you, should you wish to speak with him. I do not know him well, but he seems a sensible man. Here is the name of the tavern, just off the square with the stables, and here,” he said, handing over yet another sheet of paper, “is as detailed a description I could manage of Weekes’ new appearance. ”
“Expect to hear from me within a week,” Lyons assured him. “I shall write to you at your camp.”
The investigator was as good as his word. Six days later, his report arrived on Richard’s desk.
I have discovered your man in a small village outside of Brighton.
He now goes by the name Peter Thompson. He was not attached to the militia after all but was known to some who enjoyed the gaming tables.
It appears he is keeping away from the main training encampment to avoid being recognised by any who might have known him in the past. The prospect of filling his pockets, however, seems too great a temptation for him to resist. In that regard, he is operating an ongoing table of baccarat and loo.
His decks of cards seem to be not entirely honest, and he has fleeced many a young officer fresh off his father’s estates.
He was paying a portion of this take to the tavern’s owner, but rest assured, Colonel, his personal profit was considerable.
It seems your man learned more than soldiering whilst stationed abroad.
I shall keep a man’s eye on him until I hear how you would like me to act next.
Yours,
Lyons.
Two days later, another missive arrived.
Colonel,
My man in Brighton has informed me that Weekes—or Thompson, rather—has left the area. My agent said he would follow the man and inform me as to his destination. I shall inform you further as I receive news.
And three days after that, another report:
Colonel,
Thompson seems to have settled on London as his destination.
My agent in London tells me he has been inquiring about letting rooms off Covent Garden to start a new gaming establishment.
I have the address of the rooms he has taken for the moment; it remains to be seen whether he will stay there once his gambling operation begins in earnest. Here are the particulars…
At last! What he would do now, Richard was not quite certain.
Ought he to notify the appropriate men in the army to collect their missing major?
Since he had all but cashiered out, with only the formality of paperwork as an impediment to his freedom from that institution, his punishment would likely be light.
Or ought he to keep a watch on Weekes? If he had been playing with the edges of unlawful behaviour in the past, might he not venture further now?
His card games, it seemed, were not quite on the level, and the taste of wealth this had given him would be like blood to a predator.
In time he would descend to some level where he would merit a far harsher reward than a slap on the wrist.
And so, Richard replied to Lyons, requesting that Weekes remain under watch and to keep him abreast of his situation until further notice. He added his fee to the message and sent it in the very next package of mail to London.
The new group of recruits arrived at the camp, along with new piles of documents to be completed, and Richard found his time very much occupied over the next while.
He continued his visits to London every two weeks at his mother’s command, although now the visits were less of a chore.
The Eastways had returned to their house in the country, and Georgiana and Mrs Annesley were included in the dinners at Matlock House instead.
Georgie’s pianoforte lessons were progressing well, and her performance on the instrument was improving markedly, even from its previous level of excellence.
She was a gifted musician, and Richard was delighted that she was able to hone her skills with a superb tutor.
It was always a joy after a meal to hear her at the keyboard.
Her conversation, likewise, was maturing with each new meeting.
She was clearly still young to be in society, but Mrs Annesley’s influence was noticeable and beneficial.
Georgiana seemed to be having as much of an influence on her companion as the older woman was on her, for the two were now frequent visitors to the wealth of museums and galleries that London had to offer.
As well as being a gifted musician, his young cousin had a marked interest in painting and had visited the same exhibit on Italian landscapes that Miss Eastway had enjoyed some months before.
Richard considered that his young cousin and Miss Eastway might be quite good friends, for they shared a great many interests.
Should they meet, they might spend hours talking about the representation of light on water through oil paints, or the daring use of melodic motifs in the music of Mr Beethoven.
Richard did not miss Miss Eastway, but he had come to think kindly of the young woman, and he wished her happy in life.
There were even times, albeit few and far between, when he began to wonder if his mother had the right of it.
Perhaps he ought to find a wealthy wife after all and settle down on an estate somewhere.
And whilst Miss Eastway was far from his ideal woman, she was not a dreadful option.
Many couples lived essentially separate lives; had he not considered something of the sort with regard to his cousin Anne?
He could marry and have two or three children, and then he could return to his accustomed habits and his wife to hers, albeit with a full purse and the armour of respectability.
He was of no mind to consider it now, but perhaps next year. ..
But the thought of marriage to Miss Eastway, while not unpalatable, left him cold. He had not missed her at all.