CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE #2
359Mr Gilmorton wrote a short note to his beloved, making his excuses for not squiring her and her mama to a concert that evening, and stressing that only something of sudden and overwhelming importance could so prevent him. She read out the note to Lady Brailes, and sighed.
‘I am sure it is something terribly important, as he says. Mr Gilmorton would not desert us otherwise.’
Her brother, who had been eating in near silence, and was preoccupied to the point of looking morose, gave a derisory snort. ‘You both think so highly of the fellow, just because his grandmother is a duchess.’
‘No, Frederick, you are mistaken. We think highly of him because he is a kind, decent and honourable man.’
‘I am sick of that word today,’ he answered, grimacing.
‘Which word?’
‘“Honourable”. I am going out.’ He laid his napkin aside, and left his parent and sister in a state of perplexity.
Caroline Brailes was not a heavy sleeper at the best of times, and in her current state of joy was much inclined to waken at an unsociably early hour, and lie daydreaming about her future as Mrs Gilmorton.
She was roused next morning from such delightful imaginings by creaking floorboards, as if someone were advancing stealthily along the passage outside her door.
Rather than hide beneath the bedclothes, she got up, dragged a shawl about her shoulders and went, barefoot, to open the door.
She blinked, for there was Frederick, boots in hand, at the top of the stair.
‘What on earth are you doing?’ she asked.
360‘What do you think I am doing? I am leaving the house.’
‘Permanently?’
‘No, of course not. Go back to bed. This is not business suitable for a woman’s ears.’
‘What do you mean? Frederick, tell me, or I shall waken Mama.’ Caroline was seriously alarmed.
‘Do not do so. If you must know, it is an affair of honour.’
‘Good God, you are not fighting a duel?’ Her whisper became shrill.
‘Of course not. At least, I am not a principal.’
‘This is preposterous. Who would ask you to act for them, and why accept?’
‘I am not going to stand here in my stockinged feet answering your questions. You are a woman. You would not understand an affair of honour,’ he managed loftily.
‘Fiddlesticks. It is madness.’
‘Is it? Well, tell that to your precious Mr Gilmorton, for he is acting for the other party.’ Without waiting for her to respond, he set off down the stairway.
For a moment, Caroline stood rooted to the spot, her brain unable to function, then her hand went to her cheek.
There was only one person for whom she could ever imagine Mr Gilmorton acting as second, and, likewise, it would be hard to think of anyone who would select her brother as his supporter.
In view of the circulating rumours, she put two and two together, without any difficulty making four.
Had she been thinking calmly, she might have decided that, since there was nothing she could do at this juncture, she should await the outcome in lonely worry, but her thoughts went to Louisa.
She went back to her bedchamber, slipped 361her feet into her slippers, grabbed a wrapper to conceal her nightdress and tiptoed downstairs to write an urgent note to be sent to Edward Street as soon as the servants were about their routine.
Mr Gilmorton and Lord Barkby arrived first at the appointed place, shortly before the surgeon, whom Mr Gilmorton had engaged.
It was a fine morning, and, as Mr Gilmorton remarked, it was going to be a very warm day.
Lord Barkby replied that it was set fair for the gala in Sydney Gardens that evening to celebrate the King’s birthday.
The surgeon said nothing, but wondered at the coolness of both gentlemen.
Being military men, as he gathered, they were perhaps rather more sanguine about the risk of injury or death than their civilian counterparts.
Lord Orlando Hurstwood and Mr Brailes arrived upon the ground at ten minutes before seven.
Lord Orlando looked composed but perhaps a little pale, and Mr Brailes reminded Mr Gilmorton, as that gentleman whispered to Lord Barkby, of a headless chicken.
When it came to assessing the weapons, he waved his hands about and could not bring himself to look directly at the pistols.
Lord Orlando had spent a poor night, but reasoned with himself that Barkby could not want to kill him outright, since that would raise a devil of a fuss.
The sensible thing for him to do would be to delope, or at worst, inflict a minor wound.
Lord Orlando did not want to face a wound, minor or otherwise, but he had gone too far to withdraw without losing face.
He wished he had someone better than Brailes as his second, however, since the man had spent the 362entire journey up the hill asking questions such as whom he should inform ‘should the worst happen’, and repeating that he was averse to the sight of blood.
The pistols having been checked, the principals armed and Lord Barkby choosing a long range, the two men took up their positions, with Mr Brailes complaining that it was most unfair to set the distance where the more experienced shot would have the advantage.
‘Don’t be a damned fool, Brailes,’ muttered Mr Gilmorton.
‘Barkby is just making sure it is not a killing affair by chance. He knows just where he is aiming.’ He did not say he was deloping.
Mr Brailes opened his mouth, shut it again and then, to the surprise of all the other gentlemen present, stuck his fingers in his ears.
Lord Barkby’s lips twitched, Lord Orlando looked disgusted and Mr Gilmorton heaved an exasperated sigh.
The signal was given, and Lord Barkby raised his pistol.
He did not, however, pull the trigger, preferring to wait until Hurstwood had fired first. Lord Orlando held his fire for a few seconds, but then found the muzzle was beginning to waver, and so snatched at the trigger.
Lord Barkby did not so much as flinch, though he felt the ball whistle past his cheek.
He then, with great deliberation, fired into the ground at precisely the distance at which Lord Orlando stood, but several yards to the left. Lord Orlando swallowed convulsively.
‘If honour is satisfied, gentlemen, we shall not reload,’ declared Mr Gilmorton.
‘You have proved your mettle, Hurstwood. If you will now make public that you were misinformed, and that no 363scandal is attached to the name of Lady Dembleby, there is an end to it.’
Lord Orlando, who was not so stupid as to think that Lord Barkby would delope twice, nodded, though words took longer to form.
‘Will you be returning to Bath, after your engagement in Salisbury?’ asked Lord Barkby conversationally.
‘No, I rather think not. I tire of the place, you know. Devilish flat.’ He looked Barkby in the eye. There was unspoken understanding. Miss Newent’s name would pass neither man’s lips. ‘However, I shall appear in the Pump Room later, and make matters clear, as you wish.’
It was Barkby’s turn to nod.
‘I think it time for breakfast,’ declared Mr Gilmorton cheerily, and Mr Brailes gave him a look that as good as said that any morsel of food would be too much for his stomach. Mr Gilmorton then went over and thanked the surgeon, and paid him for his time and trouble.
‘I am most glad, sir, that this affair has been conducted both with honour and good sense,’ that gentleman said quietly, taking his fee, and placing his bag of instruments on the seat of his vehicle. ‘Good day to you.’
‘Cool as a cucumber, by Jove,’ commended Mr Gilmorton, as he and Lord Barkby took their seats in the carriage. ‘What frightened me was the way Hurstwood’s hand trembled. I mean, even if he wished to miss you, with that much movement you could not be assured he would do so.’
‘Yes, I confess that was a trifle unnerving,’ murmured Lord Barkby. ‘The thing is, I will never know if that bullet 364whistling past was a poor delope, a nearly accurate winging or a too-close-for-comfort attempt to put an end to my existence.’
‘Well, judging by his pallor he was more afraid than angry, but he was not half as white as Brailes. Lily-livered, I would call him.’
‘Not the ideal second, but there. At least it is done. The problem is that whilst there will be no more slander from Hurstwood, there is still the source of all the rumour, the awful Lady Dembleby. I cannot see me getting a positive answer with her still poisoning Bath.’
‘Ah, now there I think I can help you, my dear fellow,’ replied Mr Gilmorton.
‘You can? How?’
‘Well, not me exactly, but you see my grandmama has a long and good memory, especially for scandal, and she was telling me yesterday evening, after what happened in the Pump Room, that the Dowager Lady Dembleby is in no position to cast stones, so to speak.’ Gilmorton relayed the information that he had gleaned from his incensed grandmother.
‘I doubt very much if she would wish that broadcast. In fact, I dashed well know she would not. I would lay odds the Dowager is to be at tonight’s gala, where she can whisper all she likes during the intervals, and Grandmama is actually eager to eschew her fireside and bed, and attend also.
Talk about ready for battle! There will be no contest, I promise you.
Grandmama at her most assertive is like a French column going through Spanish militia.
Come and watch the spectacle. It will be well worth seeing.
In fact, you may get to play a small part. ’
365‘Gil, you are a genius!’ Lord Barkby was a little stunned.
‘Oh no, my dear chap, nothing of the sort.’ Mr Gilmorton blushed. ‘And it is Grandmama who has the brains. I just want you to be as happy as I am myself, that is all. What are friends for, eh?’
‘You are the best of friends. Now, if you would drop me in Great Pulteney Street, I will make an impromptu call upon Lady Dembleby, and positively compel her to come with me this evening so that she can witness the defeat of the Dragon Mother-in-Law. She cannot disbelieve her own eyes and ears.’ He clapped Mr Gilmorton upon the back.
‘I cannot thank you enough, Gil, I really cannot.’ Lord Barkby sounded exuberant.
‘Nothing to thank me for. But you could do me a good turn.’
‘Anything.’
‘Be my best man. I am hoping that Caroline’s parents will agree to let us wed within two months, which will give me time to look over the property in Cheshire and make sure it is ready for us to move in, and to prove our attachment is not some whim.’
‘Of course. Do not overdo the preparations. From what I saw at Elliston Court, changing the curtains and papers is one of the things in which females take great pleasure.’
‘Will not Lady Dembleby regret leaving the place?’
‘It is not my intention that she does so. I would be able to run the Woodend Hall estate just as well from the Court, and Mrs Goodworth – whom Louisa would be very loath to turn away to an uncertain future – could be comfortable as companion to my mother. There is no 366dower house to my estate, and it would mean we could live so close that I might see Mama upon a near daily basis without living under the same roof. It is unusual, I grant you, but it will suit us perfectly.’
‘I should say so indeed. Capital idea.’ Mr Gilmorton was impressed at his friend’s forethought.
‘When are you posting into Berkshire to see Sir Daniel Brailes?’
‘I was hoping to do so in the next few days, bearing Lady Brailes and Caroline with me. Brailes is remaining in Bath, or at least that was his plan before today. Looked as sick as a cushion after the shots were fired, so he may change his mind, especially now Hurstwood is departing, but it would be the devil of an inconvenience if he came along.’
‘Well, if you would be prepared to make a detour, I was hoping to be married by licence before the end of the week, just as soon as Lord and Lady Felmersham can post down. Then you could perform the same service for me as I will for you, and your Caroline is Louisa’s closest friend.’
‘I would be delighted. I will ask Caroline and Lady Brailes this afternoon.’
Mr Gilmorton banged upon the roof of the carriage, and it slowed and came to a halt. The two gentlemen shook hands, both in great good humour, and parted.