Chapter 19 #4
“Yes, milady,” said the man quickly, and in a few minutes they were on their way with Robin, as smart as possible in a sturdy woolen jacket, walking a few paces behind.
Once they were in the street and heading in the right direction, Beth said, “I don’t see how you can lead us from the rear, Robin. Why don’t you walk ahead.”
Robin was very willing to do this and sauntered along whistling while Beth and Redcliff walked composedly behind. None of them noticed a sharp-featured individual who gave up supporting the iron railings around the center of the square and began to follow them.
This time a sensible-looking young maid opened the door of number 8, Scarborough Lane.
Her eyes opened wide, however, when Beth gave her card, and it almost seemed as if she would shut the door in their faces.
Perhaps the de Vaux look was becoming a part of her, thought Beth, for the maid gave in and admitted them, directing them to the parlor, before tottering away, muttering. With a wink, Robin followed her.
In a few moments the White Dove entered.
“You’ve given poor Agnes a turn, my lady.
” She glanced at Redcliff who had finally put two and two together and looked outraged.
“And your maid, too, I’ll go odds. Why don’t you send her to the kitchen where she and Agnes can support one another over hot, sweet tea. ”
Beth agreed, and it was clear Redcliff was only too pleased to escape the presence of such a notorious creature.
As the two women took seats, Blanche said, “I should offer you refreshment, Lady Arden, but to be honest, I’m not sure anything potable will come out of the kitchen for the next little while. This is a somewhat unusual situation,” she added with a twinkle.
“Scandalous,” agreed Beth amiably. “You should have seen the trouble I had getting out of Belcraven House and to here without turning everyone on their ear.”
“Lucien often found the same thing,” said Blanche, and then stopped, looking conscious.
Though the words did give her a slight pang, Beth said, “I don’t suppose we’ll get anywhere if we ban his name from conversation, will we, Mrs. Hardcastle?
I must make it clear, however,” she added amiably, “that if I find you still have designs on my husband, I’m likely to put a bullet through your heart. ”
Blanche grinned. “Good for you! Is it possible you’ll go so far as to call me Blanche, your ladyship?
My real name’s Maggie Duggins, and I should tell you I’m a butcher’s daughter from one of the less desirable parts of Manchester.
” She paused for a moment to give Beth the opportunity for comment.
When none came, she smiled and continued, “I’m well-used to Blanche by now, but Mrs. Hardcastle never sounds like me at all. ”
“I will,” said Beth, “as long as you don’t ‘your ladyship’ me. I find that equally strange. In private, please call me Beth.”
“I doubt we’re ever likely to meet in public, Beth,” said Blanche wryly. “You’ve come to see Miss Greystone?”
Beth nodded.
“She’s in her room, and I’ll call her in a minute. I’d like to talk to you first, though. That girl is in a very awkward situation. Do you have any plan for her?”
“No. I wanted to talk to her again and see if she has any ideas. I also wanted to warn her and you that her parents and Lord Deveril have started a full-scale search. I had hopes they would be more discreet for fear of scandal.”
“Money on one side and lust on the other leaves little room for discretion,” remarked Blanche. “Miss Greystone did ask if I could train her for the theater, but aside from the fact that it would be improper it’s hardly a place to hide.”
“She could become a teacher or governess, though I’m not sure she is really suited to the profession,” said Beth thoughtfully, “but how it would be achieved, I don’t know.”
“Perhaps you could fake references for her,” said Blanche casually.
“What?” asked Beth, shocked.
Blanche shrugged. “If she went after some provincial position with references from the Marchioness of Arden, it would doubtless work.”
“Oh, I couldn’t.”
“If you’re going to be squeamish, you’ll have her married to Deveril,” said Blanche plainly.
“She can’t stay hidden here too long without word getting out, particularly if they post bills and a reward.
She needs to be well away with a new identity and some form of employment. Someone will have to forge something.”
Beth felt as if she had suddenly found herself at the edge of a precipice. “So if I behave correctly I will fail a girl in dire need,” she murmured.
“‘Rules to regulate behavior,’” quoted Blanche quietly, “‘and to preserve reputation, too frequently supersede moral obligations.’”
Beth stared at her. “Mary Wollstonecraft!”
Blanche smiled. “You seem like a woman who would have studied her. Surely she would say, ‘Help Clarissa and be damned to Society.’ After all, Miss Greystone’s position can’t help but remind me of her Maria in The Wrongs of Woman,” she said, referring to Mary Wollstonecraft’s novel.
“Indeed. I wouldn’t put it past Lord Deveril to consign Clarissa to an insane asylum if it suited his purpose. But it’s not just reputation, Blanche. It’s the law.”
The two women immediately plunged into a penetrating debate on right and wrong. Only the rapping of the door knocker broke their absorption. As Agnes passed through the hall on her way to answer it, they looked at one another and smiled.
“Oh,” said Beth, slightly appalled at the situation in which she found herself “but this is likely to be a tortuous friendship.”
“It’ll give Lucien giddy fits,” said Blanche, laughing.
“Indeed,” said a sneering voice. “A more improper association is hard to imagine.”
Both women turned sharply to see Lord Deveril standing in the doorway with a pistol in his hand.
Two unpleasant-looking men were behind him, one dark and bearded, one sandy with piggy eyes.
Pig-eyes was holding Agnes. His fat hand was clamped over the maid’s mouth and above it her pale eyes bulged with terror.
“I think it my duty to remove my bride from such a den of iniquity,” said Lord Deveril.