XIV #2
“I do hope Grandmama is not overdoing things,” Rory said. They had neared the doorway, and she raised her voice slightly in order to make herself heard over the sound of the musicians tuning their instruments.
“She is no doubt enjoying every moment,” Nell replied, smiling.
“Well, I must confess I’ve noticed she rarely lets her health interfere with anything she tru—” Rory’s voice seemed to catch in her throat.
Nell, noting the way her eyes lit up and following the direction of her gaze, saw Major Talcott coming toward them from the main entryway.
“Good evening, sir,” Rory said with a brilliant smile. “We had nearly given you up.”
“Forgive me, my lady,” he said smoothly, grinning at her and then bowing to Nell. “I was unavoidably detained.”
“Invasion, sir?” Rory’s eyes twinkled, and dimples appeared in her cheeks.
The expression on Talcott’s face and the warmth in his eyes when he responded to this sally made Nell regard him with a good deal of speculation. His attention was fully engaged, however, and he did not notice her searching look.
“Only smugglers,” he said. “The Land Guard has asked our help in searching out a particularly stubborn lot of them. Seems their activities have been on the increase in this neighborhood since the prince and his friends came to town.”
Rory smoothed the lace on her sleeve somewhat guiltily. “Is that really so dreadful? I think the duties are loathsome.”
“So do most of my men, I’m afraid.” Talcott had not missed her gesture, but he said nothing about it, for Huntley approached them from the card room just then. “Good evening, my lord.”
“Major Talcott has just been telling us he has been looking for smugglers, Huntley,” Rory informed him. “Is that not thrilling?”
“Indeed,” Huntley replied, shaking hands with the major. “Locals?”
Talcott nodded. “We think so. The Land Guard has asked merely that we send out the occasional night patrol, hoping to deter their more outrageous activities. It’s good practice for my men, although so far I’m afraid their interest in actually capturing any smugglers is slight at best.”
“Huntley does not approve of smuggling,” Rory said with an oblique, pouting look.
“I should think not,” replied the major, to her evident dismay.
Nell hid a smile, her sense of the absurd suddenly tickled by the memory of her niece’s oft expressed wish to meet a smuggler and the thought of what the major’s opinion of such a desire would no doubt be.
He was still talking, his tone firm but gentle.
“I know you and most of the other ladies think it’s exciting to purchase smuggled goods, particularly laces and other fine materials for your gowns”—he smiled pointedly at Rory—“but a good deal of the money from the smuggling operations goes to support the French war effort, you know. And it’s not only gold, but information as well that gets out of this country by way of the smugglers. ”
“Surely, the gentlemen would not do anything to betray England,” Rory said to him.
Then, when his eyes narrowed a bit, she added on an airy note, “They prefer to be called gentlemen, you know. Either that or free-traders. And so long as the high duties on tobacco, salt, laces, and particularly brandy continue—”
“I should like to know how you come to know so much about it, miss,” Huntley put in repressively, “but I daresay the major has better things to do than to discuss the issue with you.”
“Because I am a mere female, sir?” she challenged.
“Because this is neither the time nor the place for it,” he countered. “The musicians have begun to play again. Do you wish to dance?”
“Yes, but I have already accepted Major Talcott’s offer, thank you,” Rory replied without a blink. “Will you excuse us?”
Huntley scarcely waited until they were beyond hearing before he let out an exasperated sigh. “Where on earth does she come by her absurd notions?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, sir,” Nell said, unable to resist teasing him.
“She has grown up in Kent, after all, where free-trading has been a way of life for years. I daresay Crossways hasn’t a barrel of brandy on his estate that hasn’t come into this country duty-free.
Do you mean to tell me you pay more for yours at Huntley Green?
” She thought guiltily of the cellars in Upper Rock Gardens.
Huntley grimaced. “I doubt that a penny’s worth of duty was laid out for the brandy in my cellars,” he admitted, “though it was not my doing, but my brother’s and my father’s before him.
Damn it, Nell, I am not a prig, and I know perfectly well that many of the ‘gentlemen’ make a much better living by free-trading than they could make otherwise.
However, it is against the law, and there are better means of fighting the import duties than by encouraging the smugglers.
Talcott is right about the damage they do. ”
“Well, I daresay our local lads have little to do with that side of the business,” she returned pacifically.
“That has nothing to do with the matter. Perhaps,” he added, regarding her sternly, “you might tell me just how it is that Aurora is aware of their preference for the term gentlemen. I can accept the fact that she might have heard reference in Kent to free-trading, although it is unlikely that such a topic would be bandied about Crossways’ drawing room or schoolroom, but she talks as if she is more intimately acquainted with the business than that. ”
Although she was perfectly well aware that the lace on Rory’s gown—and that on her own, for that matter—had been delivered to the kitchen entrance of Number Twenty-seven less than a week before, Nell thought it wiser to profess ignorance than to confide the information that several of their own servants had relatives in the trade.
She had little doubt that Rory, with her romantic soul and her love for Gothic novels, had learned a good deal in Kent before ever coming into Sussex.
Nevertheless, she knew also that Rory—though insisting it had been on Ulysses’ account—had spent more time than was proper with Jeremy, and Jeremy had at least two cousins that Nell knew of among the ‘gentlemen.’ Very likely, the young footman had added much to whatever knowledge Rory had had before coming to Brighton.
She said nothing of this to Huntley, but set herself to coax him into a better mood instead, and by the time he escorted them back to Upper Rock Gardens, she was able to congratulate herself that she had succeeded very well in her efforts.
It was not part of her developing plan of campaign, however, to shield him from her niece’s shortcomings, and in the days that followed, Nell was very busy.
There were moments when she tended to picture herself in the impossible position of second to two parties who had engaged to fight a duel, rather than to marry.
But whereas the first duty of a good second was to effect a reconciliation between his principals, Nell no longer retained the slightest vestige of a desire to reconcile them, or even to help them learn how to go on better together.
Instead, she meant to part them as quickly and cleanly as possible, for whenever she thought about the possibility of a marriage between them, her teeth seemed to clench together of their own accord and her thoughts showed an uncontrollable tendency to fly back to that afternoon on the Downs.
Whenever that happened, it was almost as if she could feel his hands on her again, as if she could feel the very sensations his kisses had stirred throughout her body. He simply could not marry Rory.
In consequence, she sympathized openly whenever Rory complained of Huntley’s behavior, and even contrived to keep a still tongue in her head when his advanced age and fusty manners were mentioned.
And whenever she found herself in his lordship’s company, she took whatever opportunity offered to point out—albeit with a becoming air of reluctance—any of her niece’s shortcomings that he might previously have chanced to overlook.
With such tactics as these, it was not long before she was persuaded she was making progress.
Clearly, Rory was beginning to think less and less of the advantages of being a wealthy countess and more and more of the disadvantages of having a husband who would treat her more like a disobedient, even tiresome, child than like a wife.
And Huntley, though he continued to insist that his honor counted for more than any future discomfort, was certainly beginning to concentrate with more misgiving upon the disadvantages of acquiring a very young wife.
It was not just her youth, of course, as Nell realized rather quickly during her campaign. It was, more specifically, Rory’s upbringing. Again and again she managed to bring into ordinary conversation the fact that Huntley could scarcely hope to undo the work of years in weeks or even months.
One morning during the course of her campaign she agreed to accompany Rory and her maid to the shops along the Steyne, and when Rory became engrossed in the selection of new fabrics in a particularly stuffy little shop near Donaldson’s Library, Nell took the opportunity to step outside for some fresh air.
Not two minutes had passed before she found her elbow in a firm grip.
“Have you now taken to wandering the streets entirely alone, Miss Lindale?” Huntley demanded as he turned her to face him.
Admirably concealing her delight at the encounter, she answered saucily, “You will have all the fops ogling us, my lord, if you continue to maul me about. Rory and her Sadie are just inside that shop, but I found the air oppressive and stepped outside for a moment, so you are quite out, and I will thank you to keep your reproofs for those who require them.”