CHAPTER FOURTEEN
That gentleman had set himself the task of discovering what he could about the so very smooth Lord Orlando Hurstwood, but was finding information thin on the ground, since most of the inhabitants of Bath were rather older than the marquess’s son, and certainly had no knowledge of his set.
All that he could discover was that he was new to Bath, being accepted everywhere, and could charm even middle-aged matrons if he so chose.
There was nothing factual that would support his natural distrust of the man, other than he had apparently set out to seduce a chit with no more brains than a squirrel and a trusting temperament.
Not for one moment did he think Hurstwood would be serious about Lydia Newent, but that would not stop her becoming serious about him, and dangerously so.
He did not know Miss Newent’s mama, but the suspicion occurred to him that the attentions of an elegant man of title might overcome natural maternal wariness.
He decided therefore to consult Lady Dembleby, who was definitely not one of Hurstwood’s admirers.
He did not encounter her in the Pump Room that morning, and so crossed Pulteney Bridge in the afternoon, heading towards Edward Street, where he overtook Miss Brailes, escorted by a maid, and who had the same destination in mind.
He was deep in thought about the problem and did not glance at the two women as he stepped past them, but Miss Brailes hailed him, and he came up short, turning.
‘Yes, sir, I am.’
‘Then may I be permitted to walk with you, for I too was on my way to Edward Street?’ He shortened his pace.
‘Of course.’
‘I would like to say, since I have the opportunity to speak with you, that I found Hurstwood’s behaviour towards yourself yesterday extremely rude. Blatant, he was, quite blatant.’ He sounded genuinely outraged.
‘Mr Gilmorton, I assure you I expected no less. One becomes inured, after a while.’
‘But it was unforgivable.’
‘Only in the eyes of a true gentleman, such as yourself, sir. No doubt you offer to dance with young ladies who remain without partners at balls.’
‘Not been to very many balls in recent years, I confess, and I think most ladies were glad to only stand up with me the once because I have very long legs and take big steps, but every young lady at a ball ought to have a few dances.’
‘You see, I was right.’ Caroline Brailes smiled up at him, genuinely delighted. He thought again what beautiful eyes she possessed.
‘Ah, but it might be the case that only by asking those young ladies uncertain of gaining a partner would I dance at all, if word got about how clumsy I am. Those with the option might choose to write the names of other gentlemen upon their dance cards, even fictitious ones, to save their feet.’
‘Mr Gilmorton, if I were at a ball, I would put your name upon my dance card regardless of how much I might 222have to leap to keep up with your steps, or even if you trod upon my toes.’
‘Gallant, Miss Brailes, but you struck me as a practical young lady, so think upon this; if you danced with me and were trodden upon, you could not dance for the rest of the evening, if not the week.’
Whilst she could only shake her head and smile at this, in her own head she knew that if Mr Gilmorton chose her as his dance partner she would not care if she could not dance with anyone else for a week.
At which point she told herself to be sensible, for she had but met him the day previously, and he was proving to be just as she said, a man who took pity upon young ladies like herself who did not ‘take’.
It was just him being polite, and his attention would soon wander to pretty creatures such as Lydia Newent, if they were before him.
Despite this, she wished it were further to Edward Street.
It was he who knocked upon the door, but then stood back so that Miss Brailes might enter before him, and he followed her up to where Lady Dembleby was rather idly setting stitches in a cap for Emily, whilst Hetty Goodworth made a list of household requisites to be sent to the grocer.
‘You arrive to find us being very domestic,’ said Louisa, smiling at both of them. ‘Do you come with interesting news?’
‘That depends, ma’am,’ replied Mr Gilmorton.
‘Upon what, Mr Gilmorton?’
‘Upon what you find interesting.’ He smiled as he bowed over her hand.
‘Well, I hope you find my news if not interesting then at least pleasant,’ said Miss Brailes, with a definite giggle.
223Caroline did look rather pleased, thought Louisa.
‘Then I shall let you precede me, Miss Brailes,’ declared Mr Gilmorton as he took a seat.
‘My mama has seen the material that Mrs Howell advocated for me, and she says that I may have not just a new spencer, but a walking dress, and I may purchase a straw bonnet from my pin money. I have not had a gown made by a fashionable “modiste” before, just the seamstress my mama uses in Newbury. I am inordinately excited’ – she paused – ‘though it now means Mr Gilmorton will revise his estimation of me as a “lady of sense” and think me a … a flibbertigibbet.’
‘I would not do any such thing, Miss Brailes. Taking pleasure in a new gown does not mark one as a “flibbertigibbet”. If you only took pleasure in new gowns it would do so, however, which means that you had better not mention muslin, silk or … any other fabrics, in my hearing.’ He smiled at her, and his eyes held laughter.
‘My lips shall be sealed, sir.’
Louisa, watching the brief interchange, realised with surprise that Caroline had never looked better, and was actually flirting with Mr Gilmorton, who seemed very happy to flirt back.
Her first thought, that her friend’s delight was all in the news of the gown, was replaced by the conviction that she was basking in a gentleman paying attention to her.
The third thought, that she should be warned of the perfidy of men, was held in check.
Mr Gilmorton did not in any way look the philandering sort to break hearts, and beneath the ‘amiable but brainless’ impression he seemed to wish to convey, she thought he 224was no fool at all.
It was Louisa’s only qualm about him. Why did he play a role, and what was it that, when he was not aware of being observed, sometimes made him look troubled?
‘I cannot beat that for being interesting,’ bemoaned Mr Gilmorton, with a theatrical sigh.
‘I can merely relay that this morning a noted rotund gentleman whose stays creak as if about to give out, emerged from the Pump Room to find the sedan chairmen were two rather thin, bandy-legged fellows, and when he squeezed himself into the chair they attempted to lift it, and after three attempts had to give in, and let a stronger “team” take him away. It was rather droll.’
Louisa had the distinct impression that, however true, it had not been what Mr Gilmorton had come to say to her.
However, he remained in bantering mode until Caroline looked at the clock and announced that she really ought to be on her way.
She smiled at Mr Gilmorton, clearly hoping he might offer to accompany her at least part of the way, and received a look of embarrassment.
‘I, er, that is … there is something I wish to speak to you about, Lady Dembleby.’ He looked away from Caroline and at their hostess. ‘A delicate matter …’ He reddened further, and Caroline wished her stomach did not turn over in disappointment.
‘Oh, then I am sure I will see you tomorrow, yes? In the Pump Room?’ She tried to sound positive.
‘Yes, yes, I am almost certain to be there, and will look for you, and Lady Brailes, of course.’ His words were rushed, and he rose as she did.
Louisa saw his gaze as her friend left the room.
Whatever he wished to discuss with her must be 225important, for it was evident that he would have very much liked to have escorted Caroline home.
‘I wish that my news was as innocent as that of Miss Brailes,’ opined Mr Gilmorton, turning to her, and his smile twisted. ‘And it is not really “news” but a lack of it.’
‘Which is most confusing, Mr Gilmorton. Do explain.’ Louisa frowned, and he resumed his seat.
‘I was concerned by the behaviour of Hurstwood, towards yourself and Miss Brailes, and even more so towards Miss Newent. There is something havey-cavey about him, but I am dashed if I can prove anything other than I dislike the fellow. I made a few enquiries, but nobody seems to know aught beyond his lineage and certainly nothing to his detriment, other than my grandmama tells me his uncle Lucius was a very loose screw who was shot through the heart in a duel with a man who found he had been engaged in a liaison with both his wife and his sister, at one and the same time.’
‘Goodness me,’ exclaimed Louisa. ‘The only thing is, having a black sheep in the family does not mean that they will turn up regularly, does it? I hope not since I think so many families possess one, somewhere in the past. I think we have some ancestor who was executed for treason, hundreds of years ago.’
‘Ah, but that could happen to anyone, ma’am. Rather, I mean many of the noblest families in the land have ancestors who had their heads chopped off when it was prevalent. I can think of at least two among my own antecedents, one from each side of the family.’ Mr Gilmorton waved a hand airily.
226‘You make decapitation sound like a complaint such as the influenza, Mr Gilmorton.’ Louisa’s lips twitched.
‘I think there have been times in history when it could be pretty arbitrary, and not indicative of any moral turpitude. Which brings me back to Hurstwood. I think him a “bad man” but it is only my instinct. His treatment of you and Miss Brailes was bad manners, but the way he behaved last night with Miss Newent was … worse. She is a total innocent, and not up to snuff, and my fear is that he sees her as easy prey. If she were to believe his blandishments and become enamoured of him …’ Mr Gilmorton shook his head. ‘Wolf and lamb.’