CHAPTER FOURTEEN #2
‘What you say merely confirms my own fears, Mr Gilmorton.’ Louisa looked worried.
‘Her very na?vety makes it so hard to persuade her to be cautious with the gentleman. I went to see Mrs Newent this morning, and whilst she will of course be watchful that her daughter does not overstep the bounds of propriety, she would rather see for herself how persistent he may be, since his birth is exalted but he is not the heir, and in the case of a younger son, a less than brilliant match might still be acceptable to the family.’
‘Good Lord, she is not thinking he might offer marriage?’ Mr Gilmorton very clearly did not do so. ‘I had wondered if Mrs Newent might be too impressed by him.’
‘I doubt she does, but it would be a feather in her maternal cap if he did. I make her sound mercenary, but she is a very nice woman, a woman with two younger daughters still in the schoolroom, and she is very pragmatic. She even said that if he brought Lydia out of 227her shell a little he would be doing her a service, for she is much inclined to be struck dumb in the presence of gentlemen. Mrs Newent is not a weak and watery person herself and rather despises Lydia’s “weakness”.
Last night I was perfectly amazed to see the poor girl conversing so animatedly with Lord Orlando without any shyness. ’
‘And that, ma’am, I see as another bad sign.
Only a man experienced in seduction would be able to draw out such a nervous creature so quickly.
She is very pretty, and looks unable to withstand the charm of a man who is clever with women.
’ Mr Gilmorton looked very serious. ‘If we had but evidence of his bad reputation …’
‘Forgive me, Mr Gilmorton, but if he is so adept, would such evidence not be pushed aside, excused?’ Louisa was not convinced even fact would sway a girl swept off her feet.
‘So you are saying nothing can be done, Lady Dembleby?’
‘No, sir, but evidence alone may not be enough. I shall do what I can to “guard” her but …’
‘I am at your service, ma’am. If I can assist in any way in protecting Miss Newent I will do so, but it is dashed awkward. I am no family connection, and she has every right to send me about my business if she feels I intrude.’
‘I could say the same myself, Mr Gilmorton. It is very difficult upon all fronts. I feel a responsibility and yet cannot exercise control. However, knowing that I have your support is helpful, and if you should find out anything substantive, we can at least inform Mrs Newent. If only we could simply shoo Lord Orlando away.’
‘If he were a wasp I would swat him, I promise you, 228Lady Dembleby. In the end, ma’am, we can but try our best.’
‘Indeed. Thank you, Mr Gilmorton. Thank you very much.’ Louisa paused. ‘Forgive me, but why do you interest yourself so much in this situation?’
‘To be frank, ma’am, I am not totally sure, beyond my natural distrust of Hurstwood, and the wish to protect both yourself and Miss Newent, though in slightly different ways. I would not have it said that you encouraged the girl to look too high, nor that your care of her was deficient.’
‘Thank you, sir. I am exceedingly glad to have you as an ally in this.’ She held out her hand and he squeezed it before bowing over it.
The combined efforts of Mr Gilmorton and Lady Dembleby met with mixed success.
Certainly her ladyship appeared to have the youthful Miss Newent with her on walks, in the Pump Room, and at a concert in a church, which Mr Gilmorton was convinced would not entice Lord Orlando, since it took all his own courage to attend.
The ‘wolf’ himself was well aware that he was being kept from the fold as much as possible, but half the excitement was in the game.
Initially, he left ‘the lamb’ in blissful ignorance of the ploys to keep him from her, but as they showed no sign of abating, he played the persecution card.
He admitted he had been ‘a bit of a here-and-thereian’ in the past, but claimed to now be misunderstood and a reformed character.
His ‘confession’, combined with pleading looks, won Lydia Newent in an instant.
It was so unfair, she said, that youthful follies should cast such a dreadful shadow over a man of probity.
229To less astute eyes it seemed that Mr Gilmorton, whenever the Duchess could spare him, was at the elbow of the youthful widow, and it began to be rumoured that he had aspirations in that direction.
They were clearly upon good terms, and she did not hold him off at a distance as she had the Bath fortune-hunting fraternity.
Caroline Brailes knew this to be false, and that the friendship between her friend and Mr Gilmorton was just that, a friendship.
Knowing this, she could only conclude that the reason for his most assiduous presence was not Lady Dembleby but her young protégée.
He watched her, and Caroline could almost feel him tense when Lord Orlando Hurstwood intruded with his smooth drawl and dangerous smile to lure the ingénue away.
She did not blame him, for Lydia Newent was undoubtedly very pretty, and had that vulnerable quality that made honourable men seek to protect her.
He was, of course, still extremely civil towards herself, asked after the progress of her gown, and made her promise to alert him when it would make an appearance.
‘For I am a clumsy fellow with no understanding of female fashions, and I might as easily lavish praise upon an ensemble you have worn these three years since. I look at the wearer first, the clothing second.’ He said this with a warm smile in his eyes that thrilled Caroline for a moment, until common sense told her that he was imagining Miss Newent.
It was just over a fortnight later when Mr Gilmorton, awaiting the arrival of Lady Dembleby and secretly hoping 230that today Miss Brailes was with her also, felt a tap upon his shoulder.
‘Trying to cut me out, are you, Gil?’ The quiet voice held a trace of humour, but there was also seriousness in the question.
Mr Gilmorton turned, and found himself looking into the face of his friend Barkby.
‘Good Lord, no, my dear fellow. You mistake the matter entirely.’
‘Yet I arrive in Bath to hear that Mr Gilmorton is paying court to the elegant widow in Edward Street.’
‘Er, appearances can be deceptive. Difficult to explain.’
‘How long have we been friends, Gil?’
‘Ten years.’
‘And have you ever found anything difficult to explain before?’
‘Other than how I ended up in that lemon tree in Lisbon, no. And I was blind drunk that night.’
‘Then why is this difficult?’
‘Because … because I am manoeuvring in the dark, which is just when one makes fatal mistakes.’
‘Intriguing. Would it be easier over a bottle of claret?’
‘Do you know, I think it might.’ Mr Gilmorton brightened.
‘Do you have to escort the Duchess home?’
‘It would be preferable.’
‘Then how about we dine at The Christopher tonight? I can vouch for their cellar.’
‘Yes. You might even be able to give me some tactical advice. I was never much good at tactics,’ Mr Gilmorton 231sighed, ‘and I certainly did not anticipate having to use them in civilian life.’
‘Let us say eight o’clock sharp. And now I shall present myself to Lady Dembleby, which means you can see her withdraw into her shell like a snail, no doubt.’
‘Not sure one ought to describe her as a snail, Barkby.’
‘Very true, but …’ He halted, and swore very softly under his breath. ‘How long has Orlando Hurstwood been in Bath?’
‘About a week. Do you know him? Not very taken with the fellow, I must admit. Cannot say why, and he is dashed popular with the ladies, but there is something a bit … something about him. Would not trust him.’
‘Which shows you are a man of sense, Gil.’
‘How do you know him?’
‘I was at school with him, and at university, until he was sent down.’
‘Foolish prankster?’
‘If only. Devilish nasty piece of work, and decidedly untrustworthy, especially with women.’ Lord Barkby’s expression was grim.
‘Feared as much. Looks as though he is very much at ease, but do you know, he strikes me as trying very hard all the time, trying to impress.’
‘And has he impressed Lady Dembleby?’
‘Oh no, I think she is safe enough, and Miss Brailes also.’
‘Miss Brailes?’
‘A friend of Lady Dembleby’s from her home in Berkshire, currently here with her mama and brother,’ said Mr Gilmorton airily, and picked a piece of lint from his coat 232sleeve. ‘In fact, the man is damnably rude to Miss Brailes, in my opinion. No, the problem lies with Miss Newent.’
‘Miss Newent? I am struggling to keep up with all Lady Dembleby’s female friends at this point.’ Lord Barkby blinked.
‘Miss Newent is a sweet little innocent with not an ounce of real intelligence or sense, and the daughter of some close friend of Mrs Goodworth. Lady Dembleby has somewhat taken her under her wing, but the devil of it is that Hurstwood looks to me as if he might give the girl a slip on the shoulder.’
‘But surely a well-brought-up girl …’
‘My dear old fellow, how often has some “well-brought-up girl” had her head turned by a rake and ended in the suds? Personally, I think Hurstwood is just enjoying the sport with a pretty prize at the end of it, and the sport is not wooing the innocent but prising her from Lady Dembleby’s protection.
It is a terrible shame, for her ladyship took her up to give her a little polish that the mother cannot do, not to put her forward particularly. At least, that is how I read the case.’
‘So Hurstwood is making mischief, damn him. I cannot say that it surprises me. What does, however, is him turning up in such a comparative backwater as Bath.’
‘Dibs not in tune, perhaps?’ suggested Mr Gilmorton.
‘Quite possibly, or some man after his blood.’
‘So what do we do about him? I have been trying to play guard dog this last sennight and more, with limited success, and … well, that can wait until this evening, but have you any ideas?’
233‘Reconnaissance, Gil. That will pay dividends. I will know more by the time we dine, and then we can see if it is possible to outflank the scoundrel.’
‘You know what, my friend, it is such a relief to have reinforcements.’
‘Glad to oblige, Gil. Glad to oblige.’
Major Lord Barkby threaded his way through the crowded room to where he had caught a glimpse of Louisa Dembleby.
He came upon her slightly from behind, and she actually started when he addressed her, and turned rather quickly.
Just for a fraction of a second he thought he saw something in her expression that would give a man hope, but then it was masked by a questioning frown, although her greeting was not unfriendly.
‘My lord. Oh, I had quite forgot you were coming to Bath.’ She felt oddly breathless, and thoughts very much at odds crowded her mind.
No such contradictions existed in Benfield Barkby’s head. He felt the same way every time he saw her, thought of her, dreamt of her. It was not heartening if she had forgotten the contents of his letter.
‘My mama really has not improved. She has been finding it very difficult to adjust at home, and is low of spirits, as you can understand. I have brought her, and my aunt Sophia, her sister, to give her a change of scenery for a few weeks so that she will return to Woodend Hall in a new season and having found her feet a little.’
‘Poor Lady Barkby. I hope that I may call upon her very soon.’
234‘She would like that. I will furnish you with our direction, though technically she ought to be calling upon you.’
‘Between friends such things should not count. Is there any news from Frome and its environs?’
‘I have a new lad in the stables, courtesy of my gamekeeper.’
‘That sounds strange.’
‘Yes, well, he was caught poaching, with a rabbit in a snare. I had no heart to put him before the law, for he is but twelve and his crime was through necessity. It turned out his father is wasting of some crippling disease and beyond all work, and his mother has six children to feed. There was little money, and less food, so he took a rabbit. I do not approve of poaching, as I told him, but this was not for greed, or to sell. So instead I spoke with my head groom, who lost a stable lad to the army in the autumn. The boy is on trial, not for his life, but for an occupation.’
‘That is good to hear, sir.’
‘I have also been to Taunton, with Leece and your footmen’s depositions, to the assizes.’ Lord Barkby’s face was now very serious. He saw her pale slightly. ‘I would prefer to tell you about that in a more private setting, if I may call upon you myself.’
‘Yes, yes, of course. I knew that they had been called to make them … I think I would rather hear of it sooner than put it off. I am at home this afternoon.’
‘Then I will call upon you then.’ There was a slight pause. ‘I am glad that my friend Gilmorton has been able to be of use to you, ma’am.’
‘Indeed he has. He is a delightful man and one whom I 235am pleased to call a friend. He has been very … well, he is very supportive.’ She spoke with a hint of warmth in her voice that Barkby could only dream of hearing applied to himself, but Gil had assured him that he was not trying to woo her, and his friend did not lie.
He bowed and moved away, and she was both relieved and disappointed.
What she really needed now was time alone, time to think.
When she had heard his voice, turned and saw his face, the very first feeling was of overwhelming relief, as though she had been holding her breath for weeks, and could let it out at last. Their last meeting had been so intense, she had wondered how it would be to meet him again, but he had seemed quite composed.
He must have reconsidered his feelings before coming to Bath.
That was good, except that deep down she knew it was not good.
She made so much of being free, but when she looked at him, there was a part of her that was not free at all, and did not want freedom.
When he came to her this afternoon she would be prepared.
She would be calm, and friendly and polite, and what had been said in the morning room at Elliston Court would be forgotten.
She liked him, which was understandable, for he had shown himself both decent and courageous, and Emily liked him also.
He was a neighbour to whom she could turn in such circumstances where the advice of one who knew the area would be useful.
He would always be welcome in her house.
The bond between them would be the enduring one of friendship.
Yes, that was the basis upon which they would meet, and all would be well.
She really was a very, very poor liar.